I 


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Columbia  (BntottSitp 


LIBRARY 


GIVEN  BY 

Library  of  John  Bates  Clark 


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fret**- 


■fa,  -A^^^T 


NOTIONS  OF  A  YANKEE 
PARSON 


BY 


GEORGE    L.    CLARK 


BOSTON 
SHERMAN,  FRENCH  fcf  COMPANY 

1910 


Solua.  Bates  Clark 
get. .15,1040 

Copyright,  1910 
Sherman,  French  &  Company 


u 


v. 


TO 

THE  PARSON'S  WIFE 

SUNNY,    HIGH-HEARTED,   FINER    EVERY    YEAR 

THIS     VOLUME 

IS    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED 


PREFACE 

A  venture,  even  so  unlike  a  sermon  as  the  pres- 
ent little  hazard,  by  a  parson,  without  opening  up 
the  text,  would  be  like  a  house  without  a  doorstep. 

Notions  extend  from  conceptions  of  the  Milky 
Way  to  devices  for  milking  a  cow ;  from  the  lay- 
out of  the  golden  streets  to  carving  a  wedding 
chest.  "Yankee  Notions"  suggests  also  dry 
goods,  in  dealing  with  which  the  New  England 
Yankee  is  a  proverbial  expert ;  hence,  perhaps,  the 
idea  is  apt  in  a  title  for  this  book. 

The  occupations  of  a  Yankee  parson  are  so 
manifold, — from  starting  plants  for  the  Paradise 
gardens  to  planting  potatoes,  from  setting  the 
pace  for  adolescent  saints  to  setting  hens,  that  you 
might  possibly  imagine  that  a  seasoned  Yankee 
parson  would  have  a  few  notions  if  his  mind  has 
not  gone  altogether  to  seed. 

These  notions,  now  coyly  offered,  may  be 
caught  up  for  a  moment,  or  left  to  wither  like  so 
many  other  tender  things  in  this  frosty  world. 
Whatever  their  fate,  the  parson  with  becoming 
humility  cherishes  the  alluring  hope  that  no  pul- 
pit tone  will  stale  them,  that  while  some  of  the 
topics  discussed  are  serious,  the  treatment  will 
not  be  found  monotonous  or  sanctimonious,  that 
someone,  somewhere,  may  find  in  the  varied  bill 
of  fare  a  crumb  of  pleasure  or  a  relish  of  healthy 
cheer.     If  he  gets  nothing  else,  may  he  catch  the 


PREFACE 

flavor  of  a  happy  life  now  looking  evenward,  the 
life  of  a  man  who  rejoices  more  and  more  that  he 
is  a  parson, — and  especially  a  Yankee  parson. 

G.  L.  C. 
Wethersfield,  Connecticut. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I.  Spiritual  Gymnastics 

II.  The  Parson  in  His  Garden 

III.  The  Weather 

IV.  The  Good  Old  Times 
V.  The  Christianity  Needed  To-day 

VI.  A  Minister  and  His  People 

VII.  Some      Things     to      Emphasize      in 
Preaching 

VIII.  Earthquakes  and  God 

IX.  The  Use  of  the  Remainders 

X.  The  Later  Years     . 

XL  The  Unremembered 

XII.  Optimism,  the  Minister's  Business 


PAGE 

1 

21 

31 
38 
46 
59 

71 
82 
91 
99 
108 
115 


I 

SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS 

One  of  the  most  interesting  phases  of  these 
agile  and  inventive  days  is  the  ease  with  which 
ancient  faiths  are  set  aside  as  dying  or  dead; 
elderly  doctrines  tossed  overboard,  new  religions 
invented,  Christ's  teachings  so  moulded  that  that 
the  apostles  would  not  recognize  them,  and  the 
gospel  narrative  reduced  to  the  commonplace 
level  of  our  prosaic  times  Benighted  Uzzah  fared 
badly  for  trying  to  steady  the  arkwagon ;  now 
scores  are  applauded  for  trying  to  tip  it  over. 

Perhaps  some  one  will  discover  how  to  season, 
sterilize,  predigest  the  heavenly  manna,  modify 
the  spiritual  milk,  administer  absent  treatment  for 
the  disease  of  sin,  hypnotize  evil  out  of  a  man, 
extract  iniquity  painlessly,  remove  wickedness 
with  all  the  neatness  (if  not  the  dispatch)  with 
which  a  good  surgeon  cuts  out  your  appendix, 
widen  the  narrow  gate  a  trifle,  and  macadamize 
the  straight  and  narrow  way. 

What  is  there  which  this  sprightly  age  cannot 
achieve?  Would  we  travel?  Ready-to-start  ex- 
cursions to  Jerusalem,  Pyramids  and  Taj  Mahal 
invite  us.  Are  we  musical?  Ready-to-grind 
phonographs  and  pianolas  pour  forth  Mozart  and 
Bach  by  the  hour.  Are  we  fagged  ?  A  tablet  or  a 
toxin  slays  the  microbe.     Do  we  long  for  college 

1 


2  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

and  are  unable  to  attend  an  intellectual  depart- 
ment store?  Education  by  correspondence  offers 
us  thorough  training  in  science,  engineering  and 
theology,  graded  to  Brahman  or  Filipino.  Do  we 
long  for  a  home?  An  advertisement  brings  a  pho- 
tograph of  the  coy  lady,  and  ready-to-live-in  flats 
are  near,  fitted  to  meet  purse  and  hygiene.  Do 
you  crave  a  dainty?  Drop  in  your  penny,  push 
in  the  plunger,  and  munch  your  peanuts  or  chew 
your  pepsin-gum.  Hungry  for  culture,  you  find 
a  ready-made  library,  less  than  two  yards  long, 
so  wisely  selected  that  a  daily  revel  of  ten  minutes 
in  it  guarantees  a  cultivated  mind. 

And  what  is  this  new  prize-package  ?  A  formula 
for  the  "Religion  of  the  Future"  the  versatile 
author  calls  it,  "without  authority,  individuality," 
or  any  of  the  "pagan  superstitions  of  Christi- 
anity." There  is  much  that  is  true  in  this  essay 
of  President  Eliot,  in  which  he  seeks  to  gather 
"the  tenderest  and  loveliest  teachings  that  have 
come  down  to  us  from  the  past."  It  must  have 
been  quite  a  responsibility.  One  would  shrink 
from  it,  fearing  that  he  might  leave  out  some- 
thing essential,  or  put  in  something  which  an 
Utopian  in  the  year  three  thousand  would  feel  the 
need  of. 

Near  the  opening  he  says  religion  is  "fluent, 
and  among  educated  people  should  change  from 
century  to  century."  This  is  about  the  only  ad- 
mission of  a  lack  of  confidence  in  his  ability  to 
give  the  final  word.     Toward  the  end  that  is  mod- 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  3 

ified  when  he  says  that  the  new  religion  is  very 
simple,  "and  therefore  possesses  an  important 
element  of  durability.  It  is  complicated  things 
that  get  out  of  order."  It  surely  is  simple  if  we 
understand  it.  Perhaps  the  simplicity  will  make 
up  for  the  loss  of  some  things  which  have  seemed 
to  be  of  some  value,  such  as  the  forgiveness  of  sin, 
the  divine  Savior,  and,  last,  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom 
the  author  classes  with  "a  host  of  tutelar}7  deities." 
The  author  says :  "The  ordinary  consolations 
of  institutional  Christianity  no  longer  satisfy  in- 
telligent people  whose  lives  are  broken  by  the 
sickness  or  the  premature  death  of  those  they 
love."  We  shall  be  ashamed  to  be  caught  reading 
the  fourteenth  chapter  of  John  after  this  ! 

President  Eliot  prefers  what  Jesus  said  about 
love  and  the  heavenly  Father  to  His  teachings 
about  sin  and  its  punishment  and  the  justice  of 
God.  "The  new  religion  will  magnify  and  laud 
God's  love  and  compassion,  and  will  not  venture  to 
state  what  the  justice  of  God  may,  or  may  not, 
require  of  Himself,  or  of  any  of  His  creatures." 
That  is  going  to  make  a  difference  with  those 
who  have  been  taught  by  a  "paganized  Christian- 
ity" that  justice  is  an  essential  element  in  any 
decent  religion,  or  in  anything  else  that  appeals 
to  serious  minds. 

Toward  the  end  he  seems  to  doubt  a  little 
whether  his  religion  will  "prove  as  efficient  to 
deter  men  from  doing  wrong  and  to  encourage 
them  to  do  right  as  the  prevailing  religions  have 


4  SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS 

been."  Time  will  tell.  He  is  grateful  for  the 
lovely  things  he  has  gathered  from  the  out-of- 
date  religions,  and  is  sure  that  the  "new  religion 
affords  an  infinite  scope  or  range  for  progress 
and  development."  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  "the 
great  mass  of  the  people,  attached  to  the  tradi- 
tional churches,  are  likely  to  remain  so, — partly 
because  of  the  tender  associations  with  the 
churches  at  grave  crises  of  life,  and  partly  be- 
cause their  present  mental  condition  still  permits 
them  to  accept  beliefs  they  have  inherited  or  have 
been  taught  while  young."  If  we  cannot  make  a 
clean  sweep,  and  substitute  the  new  for  the  old, 
we  cannot  be  too  thankful  that  the  new  religion 
will  "modify  the  creeds  and  existing  practices  of 
all  existing  churches,  and  change  their  symbol- 
ism and  their  teachings  concerning  the  conduct 
of  life.  It  will  exert  a  strong  uniting  influence 
among  men." 

We  are  sorry  that  the  author  seems  ignorant 
of  many  important  things  about  historical  Chris- 
tianity which  good  scholars  could  have  told  him, 
but  we  must  not  expect  too  much  of  one  man. 
We  overlook  this  and  a  number  of  other  things 
he  speaks  so  well  of  Jesus  even  if  "they  didn't 
know  everything  down  in  Judee."  A  sentence  at 
the  close  calls  forth  our  gratitude,  a  sentence 
which  may  mean  a  great  deal:  "The  revelation 
He  gave  to  mankind  thus  becomes  more  wonder- 
ful than  ever."  It  certainly  has  furnished  some 
valuable  suggestions  to  the  author  of  the  "Relig- 
ion of  the  Future." 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  5 

This  formula  is  the  best  thing  of  the  kind  we 
have  seen  for  several  weeks.  We  had  been  looking 
for  a  long  time  for  a  new  religion, — a  religion 
we  could  get  into  our  system  without  joggling 
the  nerve-cells,  loss  of  an  hour's  sleep,  or  a  meal; 
a  religion  with  beautiful  ideas,  elective,  vague, 
antiseptic,  chemically-pure,  progressive,  prag- 
matic, scholarly,  optimistic,  far  superior  to  the 
worn-out  religions  of  fear,  gloom  and  consolation. 
It  ought  to  have  a  good  run.  Its  vagueness  and 
abstractness  fall  in  with  much  of  the  thinking  of 
our  time.  It  will  prove  interesting  to  those  in- 
telligent enough  to  understand  it  who  have  no 
religion  of  their  own.  It  may  run  its  course  like 
golfing,  automobiling,  bridge-whist,  picture  post- 
cards and  Teddy-bears.  Possibly  it  will  not  last 
always,  this  Religion  of  the  Future;  hoop-skirts, 
croquet  and  bicycles  are  out  of  date.  One  beauty 
of  the  formula  is  that  it  costs  so  little,  only  fifty 
cents, — not  much  for  a  new  religion.  We  can 
save  somewhere  else;  any  family  can  do  without 
meat  for  a  day,  or  stay  away  from  the  theatre 
for  once  for  a  new  religion.  Still,  in  these  days 
of  high  prices  we  must  economize  somewhere; 
perhaps  we  would  better  wait  a  little  before  pur- 
chasing. In  six  months  we  may  be  able  to  get 
another  formula  equally  good  for  a  quarter. 

This  prescription  is  very  attractive,  especially 
for  our  times.  It  boasts  of  no  back-bone  of  au- 
thority, so  it  will  be  easy  to  swallow;  religion 
ought  to  go  down  like  a  Blue  Point  or  a  lump  of 


6  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

jelly.  There  is  a  methodical,  business-like  air 
about  it  which  we  like.  It  is  a  little  short  in  jus- 
tice, poetry,  imagination,  music,  and  a  grasp  of 
those  lofty  views  of  God  which  used  to  be  re- 
garded as  necessary  in  a  life  of  reverential  love; 
but  it  is  long  in  generalities,  sweet  philanthropies 
and  gentle  idealisms.  A  dash  of  pantheism  gives 
it  an  air  of  encouraging  mysteriousness. 

We  had  not  supposed  that  religion  could  be 
formulated  and  labelled  like  specimens  in  a  mu- 
seum; that  faith,  hope  and  love  could  be  exam- 
ined as  a  biologist  watches  the  growth  of  a  tad- 
pole's tail;  that  justice  could  be  thrown  out  of 
court  altogether;  but  we  are  never  too  old  to 
learn.  It  certainly  will  be  economical  after  the 
formula  is  paid  for.  Churches  cost  money, 
preaching  comes  high,  quartettes  are  expensive. 

Under  the  old  religion,  which  has  done  fairly 
well  for  eighteen  centuries,  marriage  seemed  like 
a  sacrament.  We  heard  the  words  of  Christ  at 
weddings,  we  asked  the  presence  of  Him  who 
gave  joy  at  the  marriage  at  Cana  to  be  a  con- 
stant guest  in  the  new  home,  and  the  poor  super- 
stition seemed  appropriate  and  helpful.  We  shall 
miss  that  delusion  in  the  new  religion.  The  jus- 
tice of  peace  may  be  as  solemn  as  the  minister, 
and  the  town  clerk  or  a  passing  constable  can 
sign  as  witness. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  to  pull  down  the 
churches  at  present.  They  will  be  useful  for 
gymnasiums,  pleasant  afternoons,  lectures,  read- 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  7 

ing-rooms,  under  control  of  physical  directors, 
doctors,  dentists  and  philanthropists. 

There  seems  to  be  quite  a  call  for  new  religions 
just  now.  One  man  is  bored  by  the  Te  Deum 
and  the  repetitions  in  the  Kyrie,  and  sees  no  real- 
ity in  creeds.  Others  are  conscious  of  no  response 
to  appeals  for  love  and  aspiration  through  a  sac- 
rificial and  ever-present  Saviour.  Others  have 
been  so  busy  dissecting  the  body  of  the  Scrip- 
tures that  the  spirit  has  escaped.  Others  of  ex- 
ceptional genius  declare  that  they  have  a  religion, 
but  it  is  without  form  and  comeliness  and  they 
shrink  from  exhibiting  it.  To  all  these  almost 
any  religion  is  interesting,  especially  if  it  lets 
them  do  as  they  please. 

The  idea  of  a  new  religion  is  attractive,  quiet- 
ing to  the  conscience,  suggesting  that  the  old  one 
is  defective  or  threadbare,  and  surely  not  indis- 
pensable. 

As  these  and  similar  thoughts  were  passing 
through  my  mind,  a  new  idea  struck  me.  Presi- 
dent Eliot  cannot  be  serious;  he  is  too  wise  and 
scholarly  a  man  for  that.  What  he  means  is  in 
the  magic  words  "Spiritual  Gymnastics."  He 
would  not  think  for  a  moment  that  he  was  capa- 
ble of  defining  the  elements  of  the  religion  of  the 
future.  He  only  expected  to  scare  people  a  little, 
wake  them  up,  so  that  they  will  exercise  their 
spiritual  legs.  He  is  a  shrewd  man  and  knew  his 
little  essay  would  not  do  much  harm.  A  few 
timid   saints   would   whisper   with   bated   breath, 


8  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

"Isn't  it  awful?"  But  the  clearer-headed  ones, 
who  have  a  little  logic  and  know  something  of 
history,  would  say  as  Dr.  Johnson  said  of 
ghosts:  "I  do  not  believe  in  them,  I  have  seen  so 
many  of  them."  What  a  load  was  lifted  from 
our  minds  when  the  beautiful  and  magic  phrase 
"Spiritual  Gymnastics"  slowly  dawned! 

Blessings  never  come  singly.  Here  is  another 
prize ;  a  gifted  mind,  neighbor  of  President  Eliot, 
steals  a  little  time  from  the  absorbing  interests  of 
a  great  city  church  to  discuss  a  principle  which 
has  always  been  regarded  as  close  to  the  heart  of 
Christianity, — the  out-flow  of  God's  mercy  in 
unusual  ways  of  compassionate  love  in  connection 
with  redemption. 

We  open  the  book  expecting  to  find  marks  of 
thorough  study,  careful  preparation,  clear  logic, 
and  sound  thinking.  We  look  for  luminous  def- 
inition and  some  adequate  conception  of  the  bear- 
ings of  this  subject  upon  our  comprehension  of 
Christ  as  the  supreme  revelation  of  the  Father. 
We  find  a  lack  of  lucid  definition,  logic,  and 
comprehension  of  the  historic  place  of  miracles 
in  the  Christian  system.  If  the  author  has  dis- 
covered ground  for  displacing  and  eliminating 
the  events  which  the  greatest  thinkers  of  the 
Church  have  always  regarded  as  supernatural,  he 
fails  to  make  them  appear. 

The  chase  for  simplicity  in  the  end  leads  into  a 
deeper  complexity.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  spe- 
cial pleading,  a  warm  flow  of  sweetness,  but  more 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  9 

light  on  the  author  than  on  the  subject  in  hand. 
Dr.  Gordon  fails  to  show  how  we  can  cut  out  mira- 
cles and  have  left  unimpaired  the  New  Testament 
conception  of  Christ  and  the  teachings  inter- 
woven with  the  miracles.  The  book  is  made  up  of 
a  course  of  lectures  delivered  at  Yale  Divinity 
School  last  year  on  the  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor 
foundation  and  is  distinctly  apologetic  and  altru- 
istic. It  is  not  easy  to  tell  exactly  where  the 
author  stands,  but  it  is  possible  to  guess  which 
way  he  leans.  Dr.  Gordon  seems  a  little  scared 
to  be  found  in  the  company  of  such  naughty 
boys  as  Schmiedel  and  Cheyne,  and  good  boy  that 
he  is,  he  tries  to  swear  as  they  do  and  seem  almost 
as  bad,  but  without  much  heart,  and  this  is  to 
his  credit. 

He  seeks  at  the  outset  to  propitiate  the  shade 
of  that  vigorous  old  warhorse  of  the  Evangelical 
faith,  Dr.  N.  W.  Taylor.  We  have  not  heard 
whether  the  champion  of  the  last  century  ac- 
cepted the  apology  of  the  twentieth  century  lec- 
turer at  his  beloved  school  or  not.  We  suspect 
that  the  lectures  gave  him  a  bad  half -hour  even 
in  heaven.  This  reflection  throws  doubt  on  the 
notion  that  saints  in  glory  are  acquainted  with 
the  capers  of  us  frisky  mortals. 

Dr.  Taylor  was  not  unrhetorical,  but  he  was  a 
clear,  logical  thinker.  What  has  become  of  his 
mantle  ? 

Here  is  a  sample  from  the  book : 

"  The  recorded  gospel,  the  recorded   Christ,  we 


10  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

leave  behind  as  the  swift  years  roll,  as  the  great 
centuries  pass.  That  divine  life  in  Galilee  and  in 
Judea  is  far  away  from  our  time.  We  may  weep 
that  it  is  receding  from  the  successive  generations 
of  men;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  it  is  part  of 
the  history  of  the  race,  that  it  is  the  abiding  and 
the  supreme  memorial,  and  the  glorious  deep  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  goes  forward  with  us;  it  is  under  the 
keel  of  the  ship." 

This  and  similar  passages  disturbed  me  a  little 
at  first.  I  was  not  sure  what  the  author  meant, 
though  I  could  see  that  he  evidently  was  saying 
more  than  a  commonplace.  The  imagery  is  of  an 
ocean  voyage.  It  seemed  as  though  he  were 
throwing  overboard  something  more  substantial 
than  the  run-away  prophet.  But  when  the 
thought  of  "Spiritual  Gymnastics"  came,  all  was 
clear.  Dr.  Gordon  thinks  we  are  going  away 
from  the  recorded  Christ  and  the  further  we  get 
the  more  we  must  throw  away,  that  we  may  go 
light  and  make  speed.  The  closing  words  of  the 
passage  illuminate  the  subject  wonderfully,  "The 
glorious  deep  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  under  the 
keel  of  the  ship."  How  stupid  not  to  see  at  the 
first  glance  that  Spiritual  Gymnastics  had  taken 
to  water! 

Here  is  a  boat-race.  Dr.  Gordon  cannot  be  se- 
rious, he  is  getting  up  a  little  gymnastic  exercise 
to  develop  the  wings  or  the  fins  of  the  saints  that 
when  they  come  to  difficulties  they  may  be  able  to 
fly  over  them  or  dive  under  them.  Then  this  boat- 
ing practice  is  taken  to  that  clearing-house  of  in- 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  11 

teresting  speculations,  the  religious  newspaper. 
A  symposium  is  arranged  by  the  editor,  to  which 
professors,  ministers  and  an  occasional  layman 
contribute.  They  snatch  a  little  time  from  their 
busy  lives  to  explain  how  they  feel  about  the  sub- 
ject. All  is  done  with  due  regard  to  the  feelings 
of  the  honored  preacher.  The  result  is  summed 
up  by  the  editor,  who  then  passes  calmly  on  to 
discuss  the  shirtwaist  strike  and  the  future  of  the 
House  of  Lords.  The  result  of  the  symposium  is 
labelled  and  filed  away  in  the  archives  with  the 
results  of  the  councils  of  Jerusalem,  Nice,  and 
Trent,  near  the  alcove  where  the  works  of  Augus- 
tine, Calvin,  Edwards,  and  Taylor  are  calmly  re- 
posing. 

All  this  disturbs  the  minds  of  the  thoughtful 
until  they  reflect  that  it  is  a  kind  of  holy  base-ball 
practice  to  wake  up  drowsy  saints  that  they  may 
grasp  the  emaciated  grip-sack  of  their  faith  and 
march  vigorously  forward  toward  the  gates  of 
pearl,  hoping  that  they  will  get  there  before  those 
ancient  portals  dissolve  into  an  iridescent  dream. 

There  is  a  certain  amiable  plausibleness  in  the 
book  so  far  as  there  is  any  clear  reasoning.  We 
heartily  admire  the  intention  of  the  author;  he 
does  long  to  help  some  people  who  would  like  to 
embrace  Christianity  if  they  are  not  obliged  to 
take  too  much  of  it.  The  milk  of  the  Word  is 
pretty  strong  if  taken  clear.  Some  of  the  elect, 
partly  out  of  regard  for  the  eloquent  author, 
may  be  led  to  try  to  believe  in  a  divine  Savior 


12  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

who  left  no  remarkable  signs  of  his  divinity  ex- 
cept some  excellent  ideas  of  a  dead  man,  ideas  out 
of  which  some  early  and  gifted  followers  tried 
to  make  a  case;  a  sacrificial  Master  who  perhaps 
neither  died  nor  rose,  and  possibly  was  not  born  in 
a  way  to  suit  finicky  minds ;  a  reigning  King 
who  gave  no  marks  of  kingliness  apart  from  the 
mythical  teachings  except  a  rather  superior  hu- 
manity, if  we  can  trust  the  legends.  And  if  we 
play  as  fast  and  loose  with  the  records  about  that 
as  has  been  done  with  the  stories  about  the  mira- 
cles, in  a  year  or  two  we  shall  not  have  ground 
for  faith  in  Christ  as  hardly  a  real  and  respect- 
able man. 

The  fact  that  Jesus  laid  less  stress  on  the  evi- 
dence from  miracles  than  on  the  proof  from 
His  teachings  is  the  sheet-anchor  in  this  swim- 
ming-tank practice,  to  use  a  nautical  figure. 
This  gives  some  slight  excuse  for  plunging  into 
the  position  that  miracles  should  be  left  out  of 
the  account  altogether.  Since  some  are  not  con- 
vinced by  the  miracle-tales,  no  one  should  be  an- 
tiquated enough  to  believe  that  there  ever  were 
any  miracles.  Since  all  are  not  persuaded,  no 
one  is.  The  logic  halts  a  little,  or  rather  flies, — 
I  mean  dives, — but  what  of  that  in  this  swift 
age!  It  is  true  a  good  deal  of  exercise  is  re- 
quired of  congregations  used  to  the  old-fashioned 
preaching.  The  people  have  to  "step  lively, 
please,"  to  keep  up  with  the  nimble  parsons. 

We  saw  an  amateur  in  high  vaulting  the  other 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  13 

day ;  he  leaped  gracefully  over  difficulties  which 
have  taxed  the  most  powerful  minds  and  rose 
with  a  pleasant  smile.  He  leaped  back  to  the 
myth  theory,  which  many  have  supposed  was 
drying  up  in  the  museum  of  theological  antiqui- 
ties, and  when  he  was  asked  how  the  myths  about 
Christ  could  have  gathered  in  that  keen  age,  he 
seemed  to  think  the  question  answered  when  he 
said:  "Myths  are  gathering  about  Abraham  Lin- 
coln." Urged  to  give  a  few,  he  said:  "I  do  not 
remember  any  now,  but  Lincoln  could  never  have 
told  so  many  funny  stories."  I  should  call  that 
light  dumb-bell  practice. 

We  are  reminded  of  a  brilliant  effort  in  our 
town  to  get  a  bed-ridden  woman,  whose  only  dis- 
ease was  chronic  weariness,  upon  her  feet.  A 
board  was  pulled  out  of  the  floor,  and  a  brisk  fire 
of  shaving  was  started  in  the  cellar  below.  The 
woman  thought  the  house  was  on  fire  and  ran  a 
mile  before  she  stopped. 

We  are  looking  for  remarkable  results  in  the 
spiritual  life  of  our  churches  before  long.  There 
is  much  variety  in  this  pious  practice-business. 
A  few  years  ago  there  was  a  stirring  gymnastic 
exercise  over  second  probation.  Some  kindly 
souls,  anxious  to  give  the  heathen  a  chance  at  the 
gospel  loaf,  timidly,  and  sometimes  even  boldly, 
suggested  that  God  might  throw  the  poor 
wretches  a  few  crumbs  after  death.  "No,  no,  it 
would  cut  the  nerve  of  missions.  What  is  the 
use  of  spending  so  much  money  and  sending  out 


14  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

heroic  souls  if  the  heathen  are  not  passing  at  the 
rate  of  (I  forget  how  many  every  minute)  into 
misery?"  The  gymnasts  had  it  out  in  symposi- 
ums and  wordy  discussions.  One  part  was  worried 
lest  the  heathen  fail  of  a  chance  of  salvation,  and 
the  other  lest  they  have  one.  This  athletic 
tournament  is  about  as  interesting  now  as  a  last 
year's  swallow's  nest. 

Thirty  years  ago  it  was  feared  by  some  devout 
and  timid  people  that  prayer  had  received  a  death- 
blow when  the  famous  prayer-guage  was  thrown 
at  it  by  Prof.  Tyndall.  Distinguished  biologists 
began  to  lecture  on  a  subject  for  which  their 
training  prepared  them  about  as  well  as  shovel- 
ling snow  prepares  a  man  for  running  a  locomo- 
tive. This  was  the  plan  proposed ;  a  certain  ward 
in  a  hospital  was  to  be  exempted  from  the  pray- 
ers of  people  who  are  simple  enough  to  pray  at 
all.  Heartfelt  petitions  were  to  assail  the  upper 
regions  for  all  the  rest,  but  the  unfortunates  in 
those  quarantined  beds  were  to  be  exposed  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  doctors  and  nurses,  unaided  by 
the  elderly  superstition  of  prayer.  Thus  the  Al- 
mighty, if  I  remember  aright,  without  being  con- 
sulted, was  to  be  put  to  the  trial, — prayer  sub- 
mitted to  a  scientific  test  almost  as  searching  as 
any  in  the  laboratory,  and  its  value  settled  for- 
ever. 

We  used  to  hesitate  whether  to  wonder  more  at 
the  irreverence  or  the  humor  of  this  bowling-alley 
contest,  whose  fatal  weakness  as  a  test  is  exposed 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  15 

by  one  question.  How  can  we  be  sure  that  some 
humble,  and  perhaps  illiterate  saint,  ignorant  of 
the  historic  test,  or  saddened  by  the  thought  that 
any  one  should  fail  to  be  "bound  by  gold  chains 
about  the  feet  of  God,"  should  pray  for  that 
ward  with  the  rest? 

We  ought  to  be  thankful  for  this  variety  of 
exercise  offered  in  the  Spiritual  gymnasium.  We 
were  getting  a  little  tired  of  hearing  of  Joshua's 
sun  and  Jonah's  sub-marine.  For  several  years 
the  sun  has  gone  over  lonely  Gibeon  at  his  usual 
rapid  gait,  and  the  dwellers  in  the  pleasant  valley 
of  Aijalon  have  had  to  be  content  with  the  same 
amount  of  moonshine  the  rest  of  us  enjoy,  though 
there  has  been  a  surplus  in  some  quarters.  Jonah 
has  gone  into  a  retirement  better  ventilated  than 
the  interior  of  a  fish,  whose  juicy  body  is  in  cold- 
storage  to  await  higher  prices. 

There  is  one  practice-feat  given  in  a  multitude 
of  words  with  highly  ingenious  rhetoric,  original 
and  striking  grammar,  and  daring  flights  of  elo- 
quence, to  prove  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
pain  except  in  a  mind  confused  and  darkened. 
This  is  a  spiritual  rowing-weight  exercise,  be- 
cause you  pull  forever  without  getting  anywhere. 

There  is  one  thing  about  this  horizontal-bar, 
boat  race,  swinging-ring  exercise  which  disturbs 
me.  There  are  many  good,  honest  people,  more 
distinguished  for  piety  than  for  a  keen  sense  of 
humor,  who  will  fail  to  find  either  food,  consola- 
tion or  gymnastics  in  these  lively  and  merry  prac- 


16  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ticings.  I  have  spoken  of  the  agile  advocates  of 
spiritual  swinging-rings  in  book,  press  and  pul- 
pit. Readers  and  hearers  must  be  equally  ath- 
letic; the  older  saints  must  strain  every  nerve  to 
get  much  good  out  of  moving  through  the  air 
with  only  an  occasional  foot  upon  the  ground, 
and  the  chances  are  that  the  adolescent  saints  will 
not  get  any. 

But  these  things  do  less  harm  than  we  feared 
at  first.  Plain  people  with  common  sense  are 
slow  to  leap  into  a  swimming-tank,  unless  there 
appears  some  way  of  getting  out.  It  looks 
deeper  than  it  is.  It  takes  time  to  get  an  idea 
into  their  sturdy  minds,  and  before  the  latest  in- 
vention has  settled  in,  another  appears,  so  it 
seems  better  to  hold  by  the  old-fashioned  faith. 
It  is  a  little  homely  and  out  of  style,  but  we  know 
whither  it  has  led  a  good  many  people.  Some  of 
them  think  for  themselves  and  have  their  opinion 
of  a  religion  without  mystery  and  a  Savior  who 
does  nothing  beyond  the  commonplace. 

People  are  remarkably  patient  with  this  rough 
foot-ball  practice.  They  love  their  ministers  and 
hope  that  they  will  soon  get  through  these  dis- 
eases of  an  immature  mind;  then  it  is  rather  in- 
teresting to  watch  an  acrobat  for  a  time. 

While  we  must  admit  that  the  motives  which 
have  led  to  the  invention  of  Spiritual  Gymnastics 
are  high  up  in  the  second  class  and  the  results 
most  promising  for  those  who  have  nerve  and 
vigor,  it  is   rather  trying  for   ordinary  mortals 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  17 

who  have  been  taught  to  believe  that  in  a  matter 
so  vast  and  momentous  as  the  relation  of  the  soul 
with  God,  and  in  the  conquest  over  an  evil  so  fear- 
ful and  corrupting  as  sin,  they  would  expect  to 
find  profound  mysteries.  They  do  not  take 
kindly  to  any  penny-in-the-slot  arrangement  as 
medicine  for  a  diseased  and  burdened  heart. 
They  love  the  sacraments,  and  the  dear,  familiar 
words,  which  tell  of  a  holy  Father  revealing  Him- 
self in  great  historic  movements,  of  a  Savior  who 
came  clothed  with  glorious  power,  who  gave  His 
life  for  us,  rose,  reigns,  sends  His  Spirit,  and 
dwells  within  His  children.  When  passing 
through  trials,  they  have  been  comforted  as  they 
have  felt  that  the  Jesus  of  Mary  and  Martha  was 
their  Savior.  The  grave  has  lost  most  of  its  ter- 
rors when  they  believe  that  Jesus  rose  from  it 
triumphant.  They  cannot  and  will  not  believe 
that  all  this  is  gone. 

They  would  feel  homesick  in  the  new  religion- 
flat,  though  hygienic,  lighted  by  an  aurora  and 
piped  for  gas.  Christ  seems  to  them  as  an  eter- 
nal and  loving  figure,  reaching  out  His  hands  of 
divine  sympathy  and  power,  with  forgiveness 
and  infinite  blessing.  Christianity  seems  to  them 
a  rescue  from  the  power  of  sin  and  restoration  to 
the  divine  fellowship,  and  they  prefer  to  take 
their  exercise  in  a  humble  and  obedient  following 
of  Jesus  as  so  many  others  have  done.  As  they 
look  out  on  the  world  they  see  a  condition  of  self- 
ishness and  depravity  which  seems  to  them  to  call 


18  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

for  a  divine  interposition,  and  they  doubt 
whether  a  mild  wash  of  sentimental  idealism  will 
meet  the  case.  Some  have  heard  the  warning  of 
Professor  Fisher:  "Look  out  for  that  old  devil 
pantheism.     He  is  always  trying  to  steal  in." 

We  have  yet  to  see  the  fallacy  in  Canon  West- 
cott's  position,  "The  resurrection  is  a  miracle  or 
an  illusion.  There  is  no  alternative  and  no  am- 
biguity." When  the  disciples  laid  the  body  of 
Jesus  in  Joseph's  tomb,  they  had  no  expectation 
of  seeing  him  alive  again.  Arthur  slept  in  the 
dark  shades  of  Avalon,  Barbarossa  was  concealed 
in  a  subterraneum  cavern,  Don  Sebastian  went 
into  obscure  captivity,  but  Jesus  was  dead.  The 
soldiers  and  the  disciples  knew  that  He  was  dead. 
His  enemies  dwelt  more  on  His  promise  to  rise 
than  did  His  friends.  Two  days  later  the  lacer- 
ated body  had  changed  into  an  engine  of  spiritual 
power.  How  could  the  case  be  more  clearly  stated 
than  in  these  words  by  James  Freeman  Clark? 

"  The  main  fact  that  Jesus,  after  His  death,  came 
again  to  His  disciples  in  visible  form,  and  created 
a  faith  in  immortality  which  transfigured  their 
whole  being,  seems  to  me  undeniable.  Without 
some  such  event  Christianity  would  have  been  bur- 
ied forever  in  the  grave;  the  resurrection  of  Christ 
was  the  resurrection  of  Christianity.  With  all  re- 
spect for  those  who  believe  that  the  disciples  im- 
agined that  they  saw  the  Master  and  that  this  self- 
delusion  was  the  foundation  on  which  their  religion 
was  built,  which  converted  Europe  to  a  faith  in  a 
Jewish  Messiah,  the  supposition  appears  to  me  his- 
toricallv  incredible.     The  house  which  is  to  stand 


SPIRITUAL  GYMNASTICS  19 

must  be  founded  on  the  rock  of  reality,  not  on  the 
sand  of  delusion." 

Sin  is  historical ;  it  must  be  met  by  a  historical 
remedy.  Dreamers  may  enjoy  revelling  in  ab- 
stractions, but  the  great  Christian  thinkers  of 
the  past  and  the  multitudes  who  have  found 
Christ  real,  have  believed  that  the  human  soul, 
burdened,  perplexed,  tortured,  filled  with  remorse, 
needs  more  than  vague  phrases  of  a  pantheistic 
ethical  idealism.  Sin  is  concrete,  aggressive,  ter- 
rific. Redemption  must  be  concrete,  positive,  di- 
vine. 

The  periods  of  greatest  spiritual  power  in  the 
past  have  been  the  times  when  men  faced  the  prob- 
lems of  life  with  an  absolute  faith  in  Jesus  Christ 
as  the  Savior  of  the  world  whom  God  sent  to 
teach,  to  die,  to  rise,  to  reign,  to  bestow  His 
Spirit,  to  come  again. 

Either  Christianity  is  a  supernatural  religion 
or  it  is  nothing  which  commands  our  respect. 
The  supernatural  is  not  a  subordinate  theme  in 
God's  great  work  of  saving  sinful  men.  Believ- 
ing in  Christ  as  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation, 
we  find  Him  a  brotherly  Savior  and  a  Master 
clothed  with  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth. 

Despite  here  and  there  one  who  drifting  upon 
the  sands  of  pantheism,  thinks  of  Christianity  as 
little  better  than  an  ethical  idealism,  the  great 
body  of  believers  has  confessed  with  St.  Ambrose 
for  a  thousand  years,  saying,  "Thou  art  the 
King  of  glor}T,  O   Christ.     Thou  art  the  ever- 


20  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

lasting  Son  of  the  Father.  When  Thou  tookest 
upon  Thee  to  deliver  man  Thou  didst  not  abhor 
the  Virgin's  womb.  When  Thou  hadst  overcome 
the  sharpness  of  death,  Thou  didst  open  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  to  all  believers.  Thou  sittest  at 
the  right  hand  of  God  in  the  glory  of  the  Father." 


II 

THE  PARSON  IN  HIS  GARDEN 

If  there  is  any  time  when  the  country  parson 
is  most  sorely  tempted  to  indulge  in  worldly  pride 
and  to  look  down  in  pity  upon  his  less  fortunate 
though  more  famous  city  brothers,  it  is  when  he 
goes  out  into  his  garden. 

Hope,  joy  and  triumph  attend  him  through  the 
long  season.  He  has  the  land  ploughed  early, 
to  form  a  mulch  which  shall  help  retain  the  mois- 
ture, and  after  plough  and  harrow  have  done 
their  work  he  places  tenderly  in  the  mellow  soil 
the  seeds  which  by  a  kind  of  miracle  are  to  enable 
him  a  few  months  later  to  go  out  morning  by 
morning  and  pluck  from  the  tree  of  life,  which 
bears  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  a  dozen  ears  of 
sweet,  tender  corn,  a  mess  of  peas  or  beans,  a  bas- 
ket of  tomatoes,  cucumbers,  lettuce,  beets,  rad- 
ishes. The  foraging  is  not  complete  without  a 
visit  to  the  strawberry  bed,  which  he  is  careful 
to  renew  every  spring,  or  the  row  of  raspberries, 
or  the  blackberry  corner. 

A  peculiar  interest  gathers  about  every  part  of 
the  parson's  life  in  the  garden  as  everywhere  else. 
If  he  digs  a  hill  of  potatoes  there  is  a  mystery 
about  it ;  he  wonders  whether  the  tubers  will  be 
large  or  small,  many  or  few;  if  he  is  the  right 
kind  of  a  man  he  expects  a  fine  yield  from  every 

21 


22  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

hill,  and  he  is  thankful  if  he  gets  any ;  but  in  any 
case  he  has  something  of  the  excitement  of  the 
broker  who  watches  tremulously  the  rise  or  fall 
of  stocks,  without  the  risk.  Then  when  he  calls 
upon  the  hens,  there  is  a  wholesome  feeling  of  ex- 
pectancy to  see  whether  their  songs  mean  that 
they  have  laid  or  lied. 

From  ancient  days  the  country  minister  has 
been  noted  for  his  skill  with  the  hoe.  Some  early 
theologians  of  New  England  wrote  up  in  winter 
twenty  or  thirty  sermons  ahead  that  the  cruise  of 
oil  might  not  fail  or  the  barrel  be  empty  in  the 
sultry  months  of  July  and  August.  One  of  these 
provident  souls  made  a  mistake,  a  rare  thing  for 
a  minister,  and  died  in  April,  and  among  his  as- 
sets was  a  firkin  of  unpreached  sermons.  Ser- 
mons in  those  days  were  evidently  prepared  as 
ship-builders  in  Maine  were  formerly  said  to  build 
ships, — by  the  mile,  and  cut  off  as  needed.  Some 
of  those  early  parsons  were  very  skilful  in  fret- 
ting the  soil  until  it  brought  forth  lavishly.  One 
of  them  persuaded  his  apple  trees  to  yield  so 
much  fruit  that  he  sold  two  hundred  dollars' 
worth.  "But  do  not  tell  my  people,"  he  whis- 
pered, "they  may  lower  my  salary." 

It  is  reported  of  one  jovial  parson  that  on  the 
Sunday  following  the  rolling  of  thirty  barrels  of 
cider  into  the  cellar,  he  invited  his  people  to  come 
and  share  the  bounty,  in  these  words  in  his 
prayer :  "We  thank  thee,  O  Lord,  for  all  the  good 
cider  vouchsafed  to  us." 


THE  PARSON  IN  HIS  GARDEN      28 

Two  farmers  from  different  parishes  were  once 
discussing  their  pastors.  One  said,  "Wall,  our 
minister  is  a  nice  man,  and  in  winter  time  his  ser- 
mons are  pretty  good,  but  he  works  so  hard  on 
his  farm  that  he  gives  pretty  poor  fodder  in 
plantin'  and  hoein'  time,  but  in  caterpillar  time 
he  is  mighty  movin'  in  prayer." 

Some  of  the  ancient  parsons  were  remarkably 
thrifty  with  cows,  hens  and  bees,  and  the  tradition 
is  that  it  was  not  easy  to  outwit  them  in  a  horse 
trade.  It  was  on  the  farm  that  their  boys  were 
taught  to  curb  their  coltish  fury,  and  if  they 
knew  nothing  of  the  swift  baseball,  and  were  not 
trained  to  tumble  in  a  heap  upon  the  fascinating 
pigskin,  they  could  toss  potatoes,  turnips  and 
cabbages,  or  catch  a  shower  of  cream  and  cheese 
as  they  followed  the  milky  way. 

The  Connecticut  Valley  has  long  been  cele- 
brated for  the  cultivation  of  a  fragrant  delicacy, 
and  long  before  the  fertile  acres  of  intervale  were 
given  up  to  tobacco,  the  onion  was  raised  in  large 
quantities. 

My  first  venture  with  this  vegetable  was  after 
this  wise:  Calling  on  a  parishioner  one  autumn 
day  I  found  him  in  the  perfumed  presence  of  a 
fine  array  of  Wether sfield  Reds.  We  fell  to  dis- 
cussing the  pleasures,  trials  and  profits  of  this 
famous  crop,  these  smooth,  silky,  glistening 
globes  of  pungent  brainfood.  My  farmer-friend, 
with  a  cheerful  optimism  and  perhaps  a  desire  to 
see  his  pastor  more  often  on  his  knees,  encouraged 
me  to  a  new  enterprise. 


24  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

As  we  talked,  the  Reds  at  our  feet  turned  up 
their  beaming  faces  and  said  through  their 
smiles,  "Was  there  ever  anything  more  winsome? 
Tickle  the  sacred  soil  of  the  parsonage  lot,  drop 
in  a  few  seeds,  and  our  children  will  greet  you 
with  a  song."  My  heart  was  touched,  my  ambi- 
tion fired;  I  determined  to  join  the  illustrious  pro- 
cession which  for  years  has  wrestled  with  wire- 
grass  and  pigweed  in  the  onion-beds. 

If,  through  the  short-comings  of  my  predeces- 
sors, I  could  not  fill  the  cellar  with  cider,  I  might 
perhaps  cause  my  modest  field  to  be  like  a  tree 
planted  by  the  streams  of  water.  I  knew  that  I 
should  succeed  only  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  but 
I  knew  that  the  "trees  of  the  Lord  are  full  of 
sap."  I  was  encouraged  also  by  my  next  neigh- 
bor, who  had  left  the  excitements  of  his  farm 
down  river  and  had  moved  into  the  house  next  to 
the  parsonage,  knowing,  in  his  philosophic  mind, 
that  it  would  be  a  good  place  in  which  to  grow 
in  grace,  ripen  for  heaven,  and  raise  a  few  onions. 

This  kind  neighbor,  whose  temper  nothing  but 
pusley  could  ruffle,  said  many  times  in  the  early 
stages  of  the  growth  that  he  did  not  think  that 
the  onions  would  amount  to  much,  though  he  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  raised  onions  for  years  and 
never  failed  of  a  crop,  but  this  year  they  looked 
sad  and  discouraged.  I  turned  away  to  conceal  a 
smile,  for  had  I  not  heard  such  dismal  lamenta- 
tions on  my  ancestral  farm?  When  a  small  boy, 
and  unfamiliar  with  a    beautiful    New  England 


THE  PARSON  IN  HIS  GARDEN       25 

trait,  visions  of  the  poorhouse  would  rise  before 
my  childish  mind  as,  from  early  spring  on  through 
several  months  I  heard  the  farmers  say  that  if  the 
rain  did  not  cease,  or  the  clouds  continued  eco- 
nomical, there  would  be  little  grass,  small  pota- 
toes or  meager  corn. 

I  have  not  told  you  of  another  reason  for  rais- 
ing onions, — the  virtuous  desire  to  encourage  a 
young  relative  who  had  set  his  heart  on  a  rifle. 
In  my  inexperience  I  thought  that  weeding  the 
succulent  bulbs  would  help  him  financially,  and  I 
fondly  but  vainly  hoped  that  in  the  process  he 
would  acquire  a  more  humble  spirit.  After  the 
plough  had  turned  in  some  highly  perfumed  com- 
post and  a  few  bales  of  tobacco  stems,  my  one  in- 
dulgence with  the  weed,  and  harrow  and  rake  had 
levelled  the  surface  of  the  brown  loam,  some  more 
concentrated  plant-food  was  scattered  upon  the 
land,  and  then  the  little  black  seeds  were  put  to 
sleep  in  their  soft  and  pleasant  bed.  I  went  into 
the  house  to  prepare  a  sermon  on  the  text,  "In 
your  patience  ye  shall  win  your  souls." 

Two  weeks  went  by  and  nothing  like  an  onion 
appeared.  One  man  said  he  had  seen  onions 
growing  on  that  land  some  fifty  years  before,  but 
had  the  long  vacation  destro3red  the  ancient  vir- 
tue? Had  the  onion  goddess  been  chloroformed 
by  the  parsons  as  they  paced  the  field,  lamenting 
the  placidness  of  slumbering  professors,  or  train- 
ing their  pious  minds  for  the  task  similar  to  that 
of     Kipling's    drill-master,    "But    'e    works    'm, 


26  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

works  'em,  works  'em,  till  'e  feels  'm  take  the  bit." 
The  long  sunny  days  and  shady  nights  went 
by,  and  at  length  one  morning,  ornamented  with 
jewels,  in  air  sweet  as  the  ambrosia  of  Olympus, 
there  appeared  a  shaft  of  green,  not  as  tall  as 
the  Washington  monument  but  quite  as  interest- 
ing to  me  just  then  as  I  reflected  that  it  was  in 
the  midst  of  the  Wethersfield  onion  beds  that  the 
Father  of  his  country,  Rochambeau  and  the  rest 
gathered  mental  stimulus  and  courage  from  Con- 
necticut River  shad  and  Wethersfield  Reds  to  ar- 
range in  our  famous  Webb  House  for  the  cam- 
paign which  resulted  in  Yorktown.  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  the  little  green  spear  was  an  onion?  I 
leaned  over  and  inhaled  the  odor,  more  delicate 
than  the  perfume  of  Araby  the  blest.  O  happy 
moment!  O  passion  of  hope  fulfilled!  Seldom 
since  the  morning  stars  gave  their  primeval  sere- 
nade has  such  pleasure  been  awakened  as  was  then 
mine.  As  a  fond  mother  sees  a  Lincoln  or  a  Nogi 
in  the  cradle,  so  I  saw  the  benevolent  countenance 
of  a  delicious  onion  shining  up  at  me  from  that 
little  thread. 

Then  came  the  days  of  weeding.  My  cheerful 
friend  who  started  me  on  this  mad  career,  with  a 
countenance  as  bland  and  benevolent  as  Frank- 
lin's, had  advised  me  to  rake  the  ground  over  at 
an  early  stage  and  thus  escape  all  weedings  but 
one.  I  watched  for  that  psychological  moment 
for  weeks,  but  it  escaped  me.  Perhaps  that  plan 
will  not  work  in  soil  in  which  successive  genera- 


THE  PARSON  IN  HIS  GARDEN        27 

tions  of  parsons'  sons  have  sown  their  wild  oats. 

Mondays,  the  prophets'  holidays,  were  my  fa- 
vorite time  for  agricultural  strenuosity.  About 
four  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  I  could  distin- 
guish onions  from  wiregrass,  my  work  began. 
The  robins  were  singing  their  morning  anthems, 
the  merry  milk-wagons  went  rattling  by, — the 
apple  trees  filled  the  air  with  beauty  and  fra- 
grance, and  cheered  by  a  good  conscience  I  went 
on  my  humble  and  virtuous  way. 

After  a  time  I  found  the  onions  a  little  thin. 
My  bump  of  thrift,  always  abnormal,  towered 
like  lonely  Nebo,  and  after  drinking  at  a  foun- 
tain of  wisdom  in  the  neighborhood,  I  set  out 
some  youthful  pepper  plants  among  the  onions 
and  in  every  fourth  row  some  celery. 

"  The  slow    sweet  hours    that  bring  us  all  things 
good, 
The  slow  sad  hours  that  bring  us  all  things  ill, 
And  all  good  things  from  evil  " 

brought  the  harvest-day. 

The  onions  were  pulled  and  stripped,  and  over 
sixty  bushels  lay  beaming  upon  the  ground. 

And  the  peppers !  One  day  in  September  I 
went  out  like  Isaac  to  muse  at  eventide,  and  saw 
a  charming  scarlet  globe  among  the  green  leaves. 
I  found  scores  of  green  balls  of  stinging  beauty 
hanging  in  clusters.  Twelve  bushels  were  gath- 
ered in  one  day,  and  unwilling  to  spoil  the  beau- 
tiful dispositions  of  the  dwellers  in  the  parson- 
age with  too  much  pepper,  I  sold  them.     When 


28  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

the  money  came  in,  the  humble  feeder  on  locusts 
and  wild  honey  was  almost  overpowered.  More 
peppers  came  in  later,  and  early  in  November,  the 
celery  was  put  into  pits  to  bleach  and  to  cheer 
with  its  crispy  sweetness  through  the  long  win- 
ter until  in  April  the  plough  should  open  the  soil 
for  another  crop. 

The  secret  of  raising  celery  is  to  have  the  soil 
rich  enough  to  force  the  growth,  and  the  process 
of  pitting  it  is  easy ;  a  trench,  the  width  of  a 
spade  and  deep  enough  to  take  in  the  plants,  is 
covered  with  a  roof  made  in  sections  two  feet  long 
of  boards  a  foot  wide  nailed  together  at  right 
angles ;  when  the  weather  grows  cool  and  the 
Thanksgiving  turkey  ceases  its  cheerful  gobble 
forever,  a  covering  of  hay  or  leaves  preserves  the 
tender  stems,  which  furnish  a  delicious  combina- 
tion of  vegetable  and  confectionery. 

The  rest  of  the  garden  did  its  part;  about  the 
twentieth  of  April,  as  soon  as  the  land  was 
ploughed,  I  put  in  peas,  Crosby  and  Cory  corn, 
wax,  horticultural  and  lima  beans  besides  the 
smaller  seeds,  and  every  two  weeks  until  the  mid- 
dle of  July,  about  forty  hills  of  corn.  Some  find 
it  hard  to  woo  the  timid  lima  from  the  soil,  and 
the  seed  receives  all  sorts  of  treatment,  but  when 
the  beans  are  flung  into  the  freshly  ploughed  soil, 
the  tonic  moisture  soon  sends  forth  the  tender 
plant. 

Fifteen  bushels  of  yellow  corn  were  gathered, 
and  it  all  went  down  the  orange  throats  of  the 


THE  PARSON  IN  HIS  GARDEN        29 

Rhode  Island  Reds  to  be  changed  into  delicate 
eggs  and  flesh.  Some  of  it  was  transformed  into 
wish-bones  which  brought  good  luck  to  us  all. 
And  the  pop-corn — five  bushels — hung  in  colonies 
on  the  stalks.  Two  months  after  husking  we  be- 
gan to  pop  it,  and  chilly  is  the  day  which  passes 
without  a  pan  of  its  snowy,  tender  and  fragrant 
crackle. 

Before  I  bring  this  agricultural  chapter  to  a 
close,  let  me,  after  the  manner  of  the  papers,  give 
a  few  timely  hints.  One  is  as  to  the  value  of  fre- 
quent hoeing.  It  kills  the  weeds,  forms  a  dust 
mulch  which  protects  against  drought  and  is 
worth  more  than  a  handful  of  phosphate  to  a  hill 
of  beans.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  used  to  wonder 
why  weeds  were  allowed  by  an  all-wise  Providence 
to  prosper,  and  in  my  childish  philosophy,  I 
thought  that  some  spirit  of  evil  must  have  a  hand 
in  the  game.  I  now  see  that  I  was  in  the  wrong, 
for  I  have  learned  that  we  lazy  people  would  not 
stir  the  soil  sufficiently  were  it  not  for  the  inva- 
sion of  this  skilful  and  persistent  army,  and  that 
weeds  are  really  blessings  upside  down.  Some  of 
them  are  homely  enough  to  be  enemies.  How 
hideous  the  smile  of  the  faithful  pusley,  which 
crawls  in  every  direction  upon  its  greasy  paws ! 
What  a  leer  in  the  eye  of  the  cunning  snake-grass 
wriggling  along  in  its  swift  way.  Be  not  angry^ 
with  these  humble  companions.  Arise  while  the 
shadows  still  linger  in  the  valleys,  go  down  upon 
thy  knees,  and  the  wilderness  and  solitary  place 
shall  be  glad. 


30  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

You  have  heard  of  the  ancient  proverb,  "Go 
to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  consider  her  ways  and 
be  wise."  The  modern  proverb  bids  us  go  to  the 
onion  for  knowledge  and  to  the  tomato  for  in- 
struction. Study  the  microbes'  airy  flight;  fill 
the  soil  with  nitrogen;  scatter  lime,  copper,  arse- 
nic and  salt;  so  shall  thy  potatoes  break  into  a 
mealy  smile,  thy  cucumbers  shall  cease  to  torment 
thee,  and  thy  potato  bugs  shall  go  to  Jericho. 
Inoculate  thy  soil  with  bacilli ;  harass  the  ground 
with  the  tireless  hoe ;  so  shall  thy  corn  pop  like  the 
bombs  at  Port  Arthur,  and  thy  celery  shall  pour 
forth  its  fragrant  brain-food.  Feed  thy  hens 
with  balanced  rations,  and  if  they  feel  well-dis- 
posed, they  will  sing  their  cheerful  lay. 

The  end  of  the  whole  matter  is  this:  When 
food-prices  soar  to  the  height  of  Hermon,  when 
cold-storage  plants  are  swollen  with  eggs  and 
meat,  the  country  parson  smileth  at  Satan's  rage 
and  in  calm  contentment  faces  a  frowning  world. 


Ill 

THE  WEATHER 

Of  all  the  conditions  that  surround  us,  no  other 
is  more  talked  about,  praised,  blamed,  abused,  en- 
joyed, cursed,  than  the  weather.  This  is  not 
strange,  for  it  stands  open  to  the  wise  and  the 
foolish.  No  intellect  is  too  weak,  no  observation 
too  superficial,  to  criticise  it.  It  is  always  with 
us.  It  is  up  before  we  rise,  attends  us  through 
the  hours,  be  they  swift  or  slow,  freezing  or  sul- 
try ;  it  watches  while  we  sleep.  Nothing  else  opens 
so  many  conversations,  interrupts  so  many  plans, 
aids  so  many  enterprises,  and  offers  such  oppor- 
tunity for  patience  and  self-control. 

Rufus  Choate  used  to  say  that  in  New  England 
there  is  not  a  month  in  the  year  in  which  a  man 
is  not  liable  to  be  struck  by  lightning,  his  hired 
man  sun-struck,  and  his  crop  bitten  by  the  frost. 
Stern  winter,  heavy  storms,  rapid  changes, 
temper  and  discipline  the  soul  to  a  forethought 
and  courage  unknown  in  the  tropics.  It  is  strange 
that  minds,  usually  sensible,  should  be  so  often 
unbalanced  in  trea^m^nt  of  the  weather.  There 
are  people  who  almost  lose  their  Christian  hope 
in  a  high  wind;  while  a  protracted  storm  is  as  a 
scarlet  rag  flaunted  before  an  angry  bull,  stirring 
them  up  to  mutiny  and  rage.  Yet  in  a  zone  like 
ours,  amid  such  currents  and  delicate  cloud-bal- 

31 


32  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ancings,  we  must  expect  rapid  changes  in  the 
weather. 

Most  of  us  prefer  New  England  to  New  Zeal- 
and, though  we  might  there  sleep  on  a  mat  under 
the  moon,  and  get  our  breakfast  from  a  wild  date- 
tree.  What  a  wealth  of  nature  is  disclosed  by 
the  changes  in  the  weather!  What  sunrises,  if 
we  are  fortunate  enough  to  see  them!  Beautiful 
as  the  gates  of  Paradise  are  some  of  the  displays 
in  the  eastern  sky  on  mornings  in  June.  It  is 
true  that  he  who  rises  early  enough  to  see  them 
exposes  himself  to  the  gibe  of  John  Stuart  Mill, 
who  said  he  had  always  noticed  that  the  early  riser 
was  conceited  all  the  forenoon,  stupid  in  the  af- 
ternoon and  intolerable  in  the  evening;  but  one 
prefers  to  expose  himself  to  such  dire  conse- 
quences rather  than  lose  such  radiance. 

Festus  is  more  to  the  parson's  mind  when  he 
says, 

"  I  am  an  early  riser  and  love  to  hail 
The  dreamy  struggle  of  the  stars  with  dawn, 
And  kiss  the  foot  of  morning  as  she  walks 
In  dreamy  light  along  the  odorous  hills." 

There  was  a  time  when  our  farmers  imagined 
that  the  moon  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the 
weather.  That  notion  is  now  obsolete.  The  opin- 
ion of  eminent  astronomers  that  the  Czar  of  Rus- 
sia has  about  as  much  to  do  with  the  changes  in 
the  weather  as  the  moon,  has  sifted  into  most 
minds  ;  but  the  notion  that  the  weather  is  arranged 
by    some    equally    irresponsible    agency,    called 


THE  WEATHER  33 

"Providence,"  lingers  here  and  there.  An  Eng- 
lish minister  was  calling  on  a  parishioner  whose 
farming  was  attended  by  all  sorts  of  disasters, 
and  when  the  spiritual  adviser  sought  to  steady 
the  poor  fellow's  nerves  by  suggesting  that  Provi- 
dence was  responsible,  the  discouraged  man  broke 
out  thus:  "Providence,  Providence,  I  hate  Provi- 
dence. But  there  is  One  above  Who  will  make  it 
all  right  sometime." 

Perhaps  we  should  get  on  more  calmly  if  our 
ideas  were  less  confused  on  this  subject.  The 
weather  often  is  trying,  its  uncertainty  perplex- 
ing, its  draughts  or  down-pours,  its  variety  or 
sameness,  baffle  our  minds,  rack  our  nerves,  and 
set  at  naught  our  plans.  One  man  rejoices  in  a 
mild  December,  which  carries  Indian  Summer  on 
until  Christmas  bells  begin  to  ring;  his  thin  coat 
is  still  sufficient,  his  coal  bin  almost  full.  An- 
other longs  for  skating ;  another  laments  the 
heavy  goods  unsold. 

Formerly  the  weather  furnished  an  inviting 
field  for  achievement  for  the  faith  of  the  saints. 
It  was  proper,  but  risky,  for  the  minister  to  pray 
in  the  pulpit  for  atmospheric  changes,  not  be- 
cause there  was  much  doubt  as  to  the  efficiency  of 
such  prayers,  but  because  the  changes  in  the 
weather  thus  secured  might  not  be  satisfactory  to 
all  of  the  people. 

Early  in  the  last  century  two  processions  of 
peasants  climbed  to  the  top  of  Peter's  Berg,  one 
composed  of  vine-dressers  who  wished    to  return 


34  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

thanks  for  sunshine  and  to  pray  for  its  continu- 
ance ;  the  other  was  from  a  corn  district,  longing 
for  the  drought  to  cease.  Each  was  eager  to  get 
possession  of  the  shrine  of  St.  Peters'  Chapel  be- 
fore the  other,  to  secure  the  good  saint's  offices. 
They  came  to  blows  with  fists  and  sticks,  much  to 
the  amusement  of  the  Protestant  heretics  in  Bonn. 

The  summer  of  I860  was  a  wet  one  in  England. 
Rain  fell  almost  incessantly  for  three  months ; 
farmers  were  in  distress,  and  the  clergy  began  to 
use  the  prayer  against  rain.  The  cholera  had 
long  been  threatening  England,  and  the  rain, 
which  people  in  their  ignorance  feared  would 
bring  disaster,  was  exactly  what  was  needed  to 
produce  conditions  of  health.  It  cleansed  the 
drains,  swept  away  the  refuse  and  gave  the  poor 
an  abundance  of  sweet,  clean  water.  It  was  a  no- 
table fact  that  while  the  people  were  crying  out 
against  rain  and  the  parsons  were  praying  for  a 
stay  in  the  downpour,  doctors,  druggists  and 
nurses  had  very  little  to  do. 

There  is  a  story  of  a  London  boy,  who  when 
the  family  was  praying  for  clear  weather  for  the 
annual  excursion,  protested  that  it  was  not  right 
to  do  so,  as  some  farmers  around  the  city  might 
be  in  need  of  moisture.  "How  shall  we  pray?"  they 
asked.  And  this  youthful  theologian  replied, 
"Ask  that  we  may  have  wisdom  to  select  one  of 
God's  fine  days." 

How  brilliant  the  ingenuity  which  finds  fault 
with  the  weather !    "What  a  succession  of  beauti- 


THE  WEATHER  35 

f ul  days  we  are  having,"  a  minister  remarked  to  a 
parishioner.  "Yes.  So  many  they  are  getting 
monotonous,"  was  the  reply.  "How  mild  and 
pleasant  these  January  days."  "Yes,  but  we 
shall  have  to  pay  for  them  next  June  when  our 
crops  are  frosted."  "Pleasant,  but  unseason- 
able" is  another  stroke  of  genius.  How  many  fail 
to  gather  the  full  glory  of  a  day  because  it  is  re- 
garded as  a  weather-breeder!  How  the  parson 
hates  that  word ! 

A  few  reflections  should  help  us  to  wisdom  and 
peace  in  our  treatment  of  this  perplexing  subject. 
One  is  to  give  the  Author  the  benefit  of  the  doubt 
and  consider  Him  innocent  until  He  is  proved 
guilty ;  to  remember  that  He  may  be  as  wise  and 
considerate  as  we  are.  We  cannot  sharply  criti- 
cize Him  or  His  weather  without  irreverence. 
There  are  many  places  on  the  planet  where  those 
who  dislike  sudden  changes  can  And  steady 
warmth  or  cold.  An  intellect  that  complains  of 
the  weather  may  be  of  the  wholesale  grade,  but 
it  is  doing  retail  business.  The  saint  may  be  emi- 
nent in  many  graces,  but  the  oil  of  his  anointing 
is  scanty  when  he  descends  from  the  peaks  of 
heavenliness  to  scold  about  a  drizzly  day.  Any 
weather  is  better  than  we  deserve.  The  task  of 
constructing  a  world  with  weather  pleasing  to 
everybody  would  baffle  even  our  minds.  Rarely  is 
subtle  egotism  absent  from  the  mind  that  pre- 
sumes to  judge  the  Almighty  for  weather  which 
does  not  meet  our  ideas. 


36  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

Another  reflection  is  that  trying  weather  is 
ample  field  for  the  development  of  character. 
What  prodigies  of  holiness  we  would  be  if  we 
could  have  everything  to  our  mind !  How  endur- 
ing our  patience  if  it  were  never  tried !  How  se- 
rene our  steadfastness  if  no  head-winds  ever  ruf- 
fled our  calmness.  Our  testing  is  less  conspicuous 
than  that  of  the  early  Christians,  but  quite  as 
thorough.  The  insidious  temptation  to  murmur 
about  the  weather  assails  as  shrewdly  as  did  the 
curling  flames  in  those  fierce  days.  It  is  well  to 
remember  that  no  other  day  has  been  just  like  this 
day  since  the  world  began,  and  that  it  is  a  swift 
gift  of  God  sent  us  as  an  arena  for  achievement. 
Every  day  brings  its  treasure.  It  says,  "Here  I 
come,  a  gift  from  heaven."  If  the  casket  be 
leaden,  the  jewel  within  is  richer  for  him  who  has 
the  skill  to  turn  the  key.  How  seldom  do  we  get 
the  full  benefit  of  a  day  !  How  seldom  do  we  think 
of  it  as  bringing  us  opportunities  for  service,  self- 
denial,  calmness  and  hope.  Who  does  not  look 
back  on  past  days  with  keen  regret  because  he  did 
not  appreciate  what  they  brought,  opportunities 
to  be  cheerful,  high-minded,  gentle ;  to  restrain  the 
biting  word,  smother  the  scorching  taunt,  lift  the 
discouraged,  strengthen  the  weak.  Cling  to  the 
sunny  side  of  doubt.  The  present  has  its  shad- 
owed hours  and  wearisome  cares,  but  from  coming 
years  we  may  look  back  upon  these  days  as 
among  the  happiest  and  best  in  our  lives.  What 
would  we  not  give  if  we  could  bring  back  days  in 


THE  WEATHER  37 

which  we  gave  pain  instead  of  joy,  and  failed  to 
meet  the  call  for  courage  and  patience! 

We  seldom  know  how  well  off  we  are.  We  do 
not  live  today  in  the  fulness  of  its  beauty.  The 
future  with  its  grim  forebodings,  the  past  with 
its  dismal  regrets,  are  ever  encroaching  on  this 
fleet  day  and  robbing  it  of  its  charm.  Emerson 
was  never  wiser  than  when  he  said : 

'"Write  it  on  your  heart  that  every  day  is  the  best 
day  in  the  year.  No  man  has  learned  anything 
rightly  until  he  knows  that  every  day  is  doom's  day. 
To-day  is  a  king  in  disguise.  To-day  always  looks 
mean  to  the  thoughtless  in  face  of  the  uniform  ex- 
perience that  all  good,  great,  and  happy  actions  are 
made  up  precisely  of  these  blank  to-days.  Let  us 
not  be  deceived.  Let  us  unmask  the  king  as  he 
passes." 

As  I  write,  the  zero  weather  calls  forth  many  a 
wail,  but  the  peach-growers  rejoice,  for  it  is  just 
the  thing  to  check  premature  growth  and  ensure 
a  fine  crop.  Every  day  is  a  gift  of  God,  a  tele- 
scope to  see  heaven  by. 

Stanley  said  he  did  not  fear  lions  in  the  Afri- 
can wilds,  but  he  did  fear  the  giggers,  which  bur- 
rowed beneath  the  nails  and  laid  some  of  his  best 
servants  under  the  sod. 

This  is  the  receipt  for  a  fine  day  almost  four 
hundred  times  in  a  year :  Equal  parts  of  courage, 
kindness  and  patience,  preserved  in  a  crystal  vial 
of  purity,  taken  every  morning  before  breakfast 
whether  the  sun  shines  or  the  clouds  frown. 


IV 

THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES 

No  one  else  hears  more  about  the  good  old  times 
than  does  the  country  parson.  Kind,  elderly 
friends  gently  remind  him  of  days  when  the 
church  was  crowded  to  the  doors,  when  the  prayer 
room  was  thronged  with  the  old  guard  and  new 
recruits,  when  family  worship  flourished  in  every 
home,  when  the  Sabbath  was  observed  with  Puri- 
tan strictness,  and  children  were  nourished  on 
Bible  and  catechism.  The  parson  is  tempted  to 
say,  "A  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead  lion,"  but 
he  refrains.  These  dear  souls  enjoy  so  keenly  this 
fascinating  retrospect  which  grows  brighter  with 
every  passing  year,  that  he  shrinks  from  chilling 
the  flowers  of  wonder  and  praise  by  whispering 
that  a  clearer  knowledge  scatters  many  a  delusion, 
and  admiration  for  the  good  old  times  is  a  symp- 
tom of  advancing  years. 

For  milleniums  people  have  been  sighing  for 
the  good  old  times.  The  earliest  records  of  Egypt 
in  manuscript  form  that  have  come  down  to  us 
tell  the  same  story.  The  Prisse  papyrus,  some- 
times spoken  of  as  the  oldest  book  in  the  world, 
dating  probably  before  the  building  of  the  Pyra- 
mids, contains  a  wail  over  the  passing  of  the  good 
old  times.  The  civilization  of  Egypt  was  then 
regarded  as  past  its  prime.     Men  were  tiring  of 

38 


THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES  39 

the  degenerate  epoch  in  which  they  lived,  and  were 
looking  back  to  the  good  old  days  when,  as  it 
seemed  to  them,  the  Egyptians  were  a  great  peo- 
ple. It  is  a  curious  irony  of  fate  that  it  should 
have  preserved  a  lament  heard  in  every  century 
since  that  distant  time,  for  a  German  scholar  ex- 
amined many  writers  in  the  centuries  running  back 
twenty-five  hundred  years,  and  he  found  the  com- 
plaint over  the  passing  of  the  good  old  times  scat- 
tered all  along  the  way. 

I  take  from  my  bookcase  a  volume  of  sermons  by 
Nathaniel  Emmons,  and  I  find  that  on  Fast  Day, 
April  %  1823,  he  preached  of  "The  Departure  of 
a  People  from  God."    I  quote  the  following : 

"  Do  people  in  general  practice  that  strict  family 
government  and  devout  family  religion  which  were 
once  generally  practiced  in  this  country?  All  pro- 
fessors of  religion  and  many  others  once  brought 
up  their  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  Lord.  They  taught  them  to  read  the  Bible,  to 
call  upon  God  in  secret,  and  to  remember  their  Cre- 
ator in  the  days  of  their  youth.  They  gave  them  re- 
ligious instruction,  and  restrained  them  from  every 
species  of  licentiousness.  But  how  few  parents  and 
heads  of  families  now  daily  call  their  children  and 
households  together  to  hear  the  word  of  God  and 
join  in  social  worship! 

"  They  have  slidden  back  by  a  perpetual  and  in- 
creasing backsliding  in  respect  to  family  govern- 
ment and  family  religion.  If  we  may  judge  of 
other  places  by  this,  these  primary  duties,  which  he 
at  the  foundation  of  all  virtue  and  piety,  have  be- 
come almost  extinct.  The  Sabbath  was  once  gen- 
erally sanctified  in  this  country,  and  scarcely  one 


40  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

open  Sabbath-breaker  was  to  be  seen;  what  road 
can  you  now  find  entirely  free  from  travellers,  visi- 
tors and  men  of  business?  They  treat  the  Sabbath 
as  a  common  day,  in  defiance  of  all  the  laws  of 
God  and  man.  Though  there  are  many  individual 
Christians  who  constantly  and  devoutly  attend  pub- 
lic worship,  yet  what  multitudes  everywhere  are  sel- 
dom or  never  seen  in  the  house  of  God.  They  spend 
the  day  in  slumbering  or  idleness,  or  in  secular  busi- 
ness or  vain  amusements.  This  is  the  case  in  town 
and  country  through  the  United  States,  and  is  an 
awful  backsliding  from  the  pure  practice  of  our 
forefathers. 

"  The  time  was  when  no  one  could  be  found  here, 
that  called  in  question  the  inspiration  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, or  the  precious  truths  and  doctrines  of  the 
Bible.  But  how  many  now  deny  the  inspiration  and 
divine  authority  of  the  Bible,  and  disbelieve  and 
discard  the  great  and  precious  truths  of  the  Gospel, 
and  use  every  effort  to  diffuse  errors  and  the  most 
corrupt  and  fatal  sentiments  through  the  land! 
And  how  many,  not  only  in  the  higher,  but  lower 
ranks  of  the  people,  are  driven  away  by  the  pres- 
ent flood  of  error  and  infidelity! 

"  It  is  in  the  memory  of  some  now  living,  when 
cursing  and  swearing  and  every  species  of  profane 
and  impure  language  were  nowhere  to  be  heard,  but 
how  has  profaneness  now  spread  everywhere  among 
young  and  old,  high  and  low! 

"  Prodigality  is  spreading  rapidly  through  the 
country,  checking  the  wealth,  peace  and  prosperity 
of  the  nation.  Look  no  further  back  than  fifty 
years  and  you  will  be  astonished  at  the  rapid  in- 
crease of  prodigality  among  rich  and  poor,  high  and 
low.  The  swearer,  the  Sabbath-breaker,  the  tip- 
pler, the  worldling,  the  scoffer,  the  infidel  laugh  at 
the  shaking  of  the  spear." 


THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES  41 

We  go  back  one  hundred  years  further  and  find 
Jonathan  Edwards  saying: 

"Just  after  my  grandfather's  death  (1729)  it 
seemed  to  be  a  time  of  extraordinary  dulness  in  re- 
ligion. Licentiousness  for  some  years  greatly  pre- 
vailed among  the  youth  of  the  town;  they  were 
many  of  them  very  much  addicted  to  night-walking 
and  frequenting  the  tavern  and  lewd  practices, 
wherein  some  by  their  example  exceedingly  contami- 
nated others. 

"  It  was  their  manner  very  frequently  to  get  to- 
gether in  conventions  of  both  sexes  for  mirth  and 
jollity,  which  they  call  frolics,  and  they  would 
spend  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  them. 

"  And  indeed  family  government  did  too  much 
fail  in  town.  It  was  become  very  customary  with 
many  of  our  young  people  to  be  indecent  in  their 
carriage  at  meeting.  There  had  also  long  prevailed 
in  town  a  spirit  of  contention  between  two  parties, 
into  which  they  had  for  many  years  been  divided." 

Contentions  seem  to  have  been  a  large  field  for 
diversion  in  those  prosy  days,  and  no  more  invit- 
ing occasion  could  be  found  than  in  the  building 
of  a  meeting-house.  In  1779  the  first  action 
toward  building  a  new  church  in  the  town  of 
Newington  was  taken.  It  was  1798  before  the 
structure  was  completed ;  most  of  the  time  was  oc- 
cupied in  controversy  over  the  site. 

In  another  Connecticut  town,  fourteen  years 
were  occupied  in  struggles  over  the  location,  and 
so  acute  was  the  contest  that  a  brother  rose  in  a 
church  meeting  and  moved  that  the  further  cele- 
bration of  the  Lord's  Supper  be  deferred  until 
after  the  quarrels  over  the    meeting    house  had 


42  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ended.  In  May,  1712,  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards, 
father  of  Jonathan,  preached  on  a  condition  of 
irreligion  which  impelled  the  ministers  of  Wind- 
sor, Hartford  and  Farmington  unitedly  to  pro- 
test against  "irreverence  in  the  worship  of  God, 
the  profanation  of  His  glorious  name  by  ceaseless 
imprecations  and  false  swearing."  In  1730,  Rev. 
William  Russell  of  Middletown  said  in  a  sermon: 
"Vanity,  worldliness,  injustice,  griping  usury, 
law-courts,  a  readiness  to  take  one  another  by  the 
throat,  prevail.  In  1714  Samuel  Whitman  of 
Farmington  complained  that  "religion  was  on  the 
wane;  its  ordinances  degenerated;  pride  in  ap- 
parel, and  haughtiness  rampant;  the  errand  of 
the  fathers  forgotten." 

So  the  dreary  story  drags  along.  The  "Half- 
way Covenant,"  which  was  introduced  1657- 
1662,  was  laying  its  spiritual  paralysis  upon 
the  churches,  and  intemperance,  lying,  slan- 
der, bundling,  licentiousness,  and  quarrelling  were 
common.  Here  is  a  description  of  New  Haven 
when  President  Dwight  was  manfully  and  success- 
fully leading  the  sons  of  Eli  into  a  new  era  of 
faith  at  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century: 

"  Darkness  seemed  to  cover  the  church.  The 
means  of  grace  were  little  valued,  public  peace  was 
broken  by  disorderly  and  riotous  conduct.  Our 
midnight  slumbers  were  disturbed  by  obscene  songs 
and  drunken  revels.  The  laws  were  trampled  on 
with  seeming  impunity.  Magistrates  were  defied 
and  abashed.  The  holy  Sabbath  was  violated  pal- 
pably and  openly.     So  hardened,  so  bold,  so  daring 


THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES  43 

were  the  sons  of  Belial,  that  the  most  solemn  scenes 
were  exhibited  in  mockery,  and  the  darkest  symp- 
tom of  all  was  that  the  disciples  of  Jesus  were  all 
this  while  asleep." 

In  those  days,  days  before  Carrie  Nation 
brought  us  parsons  to  our  senses  and  our  duty, 
one  godly  minister  would  raise  rye,  another  con- 
vert it  into  rum,  and  all  the  ministers  in  the  neigh- 
borhood drink  it  together. 

The  revivals  of  a  century  ago  are  often  re- 
ferred to  as  far  deeper,  more  powerful  and  ef- 
fective than  the  musical  and  organized  campaigns 
of  the  present.  One  cannot  read  the  accounts 
which  have  come  down  without  being  impressed 
with  the  depth  of  feeling  awakened  by  stern,  pen- 
etrating sermons.  Some  were  terrified  by  fear  of 
going  to  hell ;  others  softened  and  grieved  as  they 
felt  that  they  were  sinning  against  infinite  good- 
ness. Some  could  not  tell  what  was  the  matter 
with  them,  yet  were  filled  with  alarm.  Some  feared 
God  would  not  receive  them  if  they  went  to  Him. 
Some  feared  they  had  committed  the  unpardon- 
able sin,  they  had  so  often  grieved  the  Spirit. 
Conviction  was  with  some  moderate  and  quiet; 
with  others  unspeakably  sharp,  pungent  and  dis- 
tressing. 

Months  were  supposed  to  be  needed  for  a  thor- 
ough case  of  conversion.  Prof.  Samuel  Harris 
used  to  tell  us  that  in  his  early  life  six  weeks  were 
needed  for  a  healthy  conversion,  and  that  his 
mother  said  that  in  her  early  days  three  months 


44  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

were  required.  Prof.  Fisher  used  to  tell  a  story 
of  a  student  in  college  who  was  asked  how  he  was 
getting  along  in  conversion.  "Pretty  well,  thank 
you.     I  hate  God  now,"  he  said. 

Here  is  the  case  of  a  Farmington  man,  thirty 
years  old,  a  respected,  intelligent,  praying  man 
with  a  formal  type  of  religion.  In  February,  1799 
he  was  convicted  of  sin ;  weeks  passed  amid  tears, 
self-examination,  and  horror  at  the  depth  of  his 
wickedness.  Early  in  April  he  could  eat  and 
sleep  but  little.  For  two  months  he  slept  no  more 
than  an  hour  a  night;  in  some  instances  he  spent 
the  whole  night  without  sleep  and  in  great  agony. 
He  could  no  longer  work,  and  went  to  a  physi- 
cian. He  could  not  attend  church;  thought  he 
did  not  love  his  friends.  He  would  gladly  have 
given  ten  thousand  worlds  to  be  deprived  of  his 
reason.  His  conscience  so  stung  him  that  he 
would  gladly  have  been  changed  into  the  vilest 
reptile,  or  held  his  feet  in  flames.  This  continued 
till  late  in  September,  when  he  began  to  enter- 
tain some  hope  that  he  was  reconciled  to  God,  and 
at  length  a  sermon  from  the  text,  "My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee,"  gave  him  comfort  and  peace, 
so  that  at  times  thereafter  he  had  a  faltering  hope 
that  he  was  saved. 

A  man  in  Durham  was  supposed  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian, but  one  night  a  dream  startled  him.  His 
distress  was  so  great  that  he  said  that  to  hold  his 
finger  in  the  flame  of  a  candle  and  let  it  burn  off 
would  be  less  than  what  he  suffered.     For  a  long 


THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES  45 

time  he  was  in  despair,  until  one  day  he  went  into 
a  field  with  little  expectation  of  ever  returning. 
He  thought  that  he  would  soon  be  plunged  into 
eternal  woe,  when  suddenly  he  seemed  to  feel  a 
stroke  in  the  back ;  his  distress  left  him.  He  saw 
a  bunch  of  flowers  which  seemed  to  him  beautiful 
beyond  expression,  and  on  returning  home  his 
friends  saw  the  change  had  come. 

It  is  clear  that  we  have  moved  a  long  distance 
from  those  days,  and  we  are  glad  of  it,  however 
superficial  our  religious  experiences  may  now 
seem.  Perhaps  the  world  is  none  the  worse  for 
the  fact  that  stern  men  a  century  ago  laid  hold  of 
the  Eternal  with  a  violence  which  sometimes 
seemed  to  do  violence  to  the  throne,  and  fearlessly 
hurled  the  rocks  of  Sinai  at  sinful  men  to  drive 
them  toward  Calvary. 

Perhaps  we  do  need  a  little  more  of  the  serious- 
ness of  the  former  days,  even  if  the  people  were  a 
good  deal  more  interested  in  getting  out  of  hell 
and  into  heaven  than  they  were  in  carrying  the 
Gospel  to  the  heathen  world;  but  when  we  hear 
eulogies  on  the  "good  old  times,"  let  us  be  at  least 
intelligent. 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED  TODAY 

The  gravity  of  the  changes  now  taking  place 
in  our  religious  thought  and  experience  demands 
that  we  look  the  situation  in  the  face,  and  dis- 
cover, if  possible,  what  is  needed  to  meet  it. 

Our  consideration  of  the  timely  and  important 
subject  to  be  discussed  in  this  chapter  will  lead 
us  in  two  lines:  first,  the  conditions  which  now 
prevail  in  the  religious  world;  second,  the  Chris- 
tianity which  the  times  require. 

I.  The  "today"  of  our  topic  opens  a  wide 
and  fascinating  field.  Some  call  it  an  age  of 
doubt,  others  the  transition  to  a  new  period  of 
spiritual  power.  It  is  a  questioning  age.  Every- 
thing is  scrutinized.  It  is  not  an  age  of  indif- 
ference, but  of  ethical  earnestness,  and,  while 
nature  has  a  predominant  appeal,  and  science 
lords  it  over  us,  morals  and  religion,  especially 
in  their  social  aspects,  win  eager  thought.  The 
personality  of  God,  the  Trinity,  the  person  of 
Christ,  are  more  alive  than  thirty  years  ago 
in  the  thought  of  the  world.  Religion  is 
being  studied  scientifically.  The  claims  of  Christ 
are  being  faced  fairly  and  intelligently.  Think 
of  the  lives  of  Christ,  the  apologetics,  the  studies 
in  the  philosophy  of  religion  and  comparative 
religion  that  have  been  published  during  the  past 

46 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED         47 

sixty -five  years !  The  age  is  commercial,  indus- 
trial, inventive,  humane,  headlong  for  reality, 
eager  for  truth.  It  is  a  practical  age,  which 
challenges  all  comers  with  the  question,  "What 
is  the  use?"  Reverence  for  old  creeds  and  reli- 
gious forms  has  largely  disappeared.  It  is  an 
age  of  the  "Priesthood  of  the  People."  Even 
Westcott  says  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  "I 
object  to  them  altogether."  Nothing  is  received 
on  authority.  The  minds  of  many  are  swept  and 
garnished.  We  are  reminded  of  a  wide  expanse 
of  sand  left  bare  by  the  retreating  tide.  Here 
is  a  little  pool  in  which  a  few  unfortunate  fish 
are  gasping.  There  is  an  empty  peach-basket, 
an  orange-crate,  or  an  old  coat,  cast  overboard 
by  swift  ships,  now  far  beyond  the  horizon.  The 
low,  sullen  wash  of  the  departing  tide,  the  dreary 
expanse,  discourage  us.  Look!  onward  sweeps 
the  ocean  towards  us — mighty  and  triumphant 
rushes  in  the  main. 

The  age  is  weak  in  spiritual  achievements,  as 
is  every  questioning  age.  A  warrior  does  not 
strike  hard  while  uncertain  about  his  footing, 
polishing  his  hilt,  or  whetting  his  sword.  Paltry 
results  attend  the  great  organized  churches, 
though  reinforced  by  the  promised  Spirit  and 
the  Saviour's  intercession.  Look  into  the  life  of 
the  average  Christian.  How  little  peace,  con- 
tentment, joy,  and  hope  are  there!  How  slight 
his  hold  upon  the  power  of  intercession!  How 
restless,  easily  startled  and  alarmed  he  is!     How 


48  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

painful  and  constant  his  consciousness  of  duties 
unfulfilled!  How  weak  the  temperament  of 
prayer!  How  vivid  the  display  of  spiritual 
poverty !  How  evident  the  lack  of  sorrow  for 
sin  and  repentance  therefor!  Think  of  our  mis- 
sionary enterprises,  which  struggle  to  meet  the 
needs  of  the  widening  fields,  whitening  into  a 
dazzling  radiance  of  invitation.  Hear  the  cry 
of  discouraged  pastors  over  unfilled  pews,  and 
loneliness  in  the  prayer-room.  Is  the  reason  for 
so  scant  an  expression  of  spiritual  life  due  to 
mental  sloth,  soul-poverty,  or  because  we  have 
passed  to  a  stage  beyond  that  implied  in  the 
Saviour's  promise  to  the  two  or  three  gathered  in 
His  name?  We  are  met  on  every  side  by  the 
question,  "Why  do  not  young  men  go  to 
church?"  Is  it  because  the  pulpit  is  playing  Rip 
van  Winkle,  or  because  it  is  unwilling  to  give 
a  wash  like  that  of  the  Sunday  paper,  spicy  an- 
ecdotes, a  tang  of  scandal,  a  sparkling  discus- 
sion of  the  times,  the  fruit  of  the  camera?  Why 
the  melancholy  dirge: 

"  In  the  world's  broad  field  of  battle, 
In  the  bivouac  of  life, 
You  shall  see  the  Christian  soldier 
Represented  by  his  wife." 

A  Baptist  minister  in  a  large  New  England 
city  calls  crowds  together  by  lecturing  Sunday 
evenings  on  such  topics  as  this,  "The  Lover's 
Kiss."  A  Congregational  minister  in  the  same 
city  gathered  hungry  souls  together  by  a  course 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED         49 

of  illustrated  Sunday  evening  lectures  on  the 
wonders  of  the  West,  and  scores  of  couples  of 
affectionate  young  people,  in  the  thick  religious 
darkness,  enjoyed — the  pictures.  These  playful 
schemes  for  luring  a  sinful  world  to  the  Cross 
one  does  not  dare  to  characterize.  Will  not  some 
artist  give  us  a  series  of  slides  on  the  Day  of 
Judgment?  Philip  and  Andrew  are  conducting 
fairs  or  managing  rummage  sales  to  buy  a  car- 
pet for  the  upper  room.  Paul  and  Silas  are  or- 
ganizing ball  teams  to  challenge  all  comers,  or 
adapting  the  Isthmian  games  to  illustrate  the  race 
of  life,  or  are  putting  their  heads  together  to  ar- 
range a  musical  program,  an  advertised  and 
winsome  rehearsal  for  the  song  of  Moses  and 
the  Lamb. 

There  is  another  and  more  attractive  side  to 
our  present  life.  Stanley  Hall,  Starbuck,  and 
Leuba  are  studying  conversion  and  the  contents 
of  the  religious  consciousness  with  as  much  zeal 
as  Darwin  studied  the  earthworm,  and  are  tell- 
ing us  that  it  is  as  important  for  a  youth  to  be 
deselfed  by  conversion  as  that  he  should  be 
grounded  in  mathematics.  The  agnosticism  of 
thirty  years  ago  has  lost  its  jaunty  air,  as  we 
have  come  to  see  that  it  is  another  name  for 
skepticism.  Geo.  H.  Romanes,  after  twenty-five 
years  of  prayerlessness,  returns  to  a  vital  Chris- 
tian faith.  Herbert  Spencer  grimly  smiled  at 
Christianity  while  in  the  flush  of  manly  vigor, 
and  summed  up    his    faith    in    God  by  saying, 


50  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

"There  is  an  infinite  and  eternal  source  of  energy 
from  which  all  things  proceed."  But  when  old 
age  came,  he  admitted  his  sympathy  with  the 
great  Christian  creeds  of  the  ages,  and  declared 
his  belief  that  the  sphere  of  religion  can  never  re- 
main unfilled. 

The  evolution  we  used  to  dread  ceases  to  ter- 
rify any  save  the  ignorant.  None  but  the  blind 
can  deny  that  growth  is  the  method  of  God's  on- 
ward movement.  The  clearest  American  inter- 
preter of  evolution,  John  Fiske,  declares  that 
among  its  implications  "the  very  deepest  and 
strongest  is  the  everlasting  permanence  of  reli- 
gion." The  best  thinkers  in  the  church,  and  out 
of  it,  are  no  longer  shrinking  from  evolution  any 
more  than  from  gravitation.  No  one  believes 
that  either  has  reached  its  final  statement,  but 
the  sooner  a  minister  acknowledges  himself  a 
Christian  evolutionist  the  better.  Rev.  R.  J. 
Campbell  was  asked  in  Northfield  how  he  got 
along  with  truth  and  evolution.  "Truth  and 
evolution?  Evolution  is  truth."  An  evolutionist 
is  not  necessarily  a  Darwinian;  the  trend  is  now 
toward  the  opinion  that  fresh  accessions  of 
power  may  come  at  any  time  from  the  living 
God  to  nature  and  living  men.  Another  favor- 
able change  is  the  passing  of  the  mechanical  no- 
tion of  inspiration.  The  higher  critics  are  help- 
ing us  to  clearer  views  of  God  and  the  progres- 
sive nature  of  his  revelation.  There  has  been  some 
loss  of  faith  as  a  result.     The  coming  of  the  lo- 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED        51 

comotive  threw  old  stage  coaches  to  the  scrap 
pile.  A  better  faith  will  come  after  we  have 
adapted  ourselves  to  the  facts.  To  oppose  the 
movement  of  higher  criticism  were  like  trying  to 
block  the  spring  by  killing  the  robins.  Higher 
criticism  had  to  come,  and  it  does  a  thousand 
times  as  much  good  as  harm.  Those  who  have 
passed  beyond  the  fear  of  surprise  from  evolution 
or  criticism  are  like  those  who  have  safely  es- 
caped the  terrors  of  whooping  cough  and  meas- 
les, or  have  outlived  the  dread  occasioned  by 
mention  of  bogies  by  an  old  nurse.  The  last 
census  gives  us  one  hundred  and  forty-seven  re- 
ligious denominations,  ranging  from  the  lordly 
Presbyterians  to  the  "Old  Two-Seed-in-the- 
Spirit  Predestinarian  Baptists."  Some  are  say- 
ing, "If  there  are  so  many  ways  of  getting  to 
heaven  perhaps  there  is  one  more  just  outside 
of  any  church,  for  there  are  church  members 
and  church  members."  Shallow  enough  is  this, 
yet  plausible  to  the  heedless.  Still  men  hunger 
for  God,  and  so  bewildered  are  they  sometimes 
that  the  charlatan  deludes  many  by  his  fakes, 
which  run  up  into  the  scores.  Many  are  the  de- 
vices to  help  us  live  "in  tune  with  the  Infinite." 
India  is  ransacked  for  her  ancient  half  truths, 
and  we  may  be  gently  wafted  toward  mental 
paralysis  and  a  spiritual  vacuum  by  the  sonorous 
phrases  of  theosophy.  The  Granite  State  offers 
the  mild  confusions  and  puzzling  contradictions 
of  Mother  Eddy,  who,  with  shrewd,  vague,  high- 


52  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

sounding  words  at  three  dollars  and  sixteen  cents 
a  volume,  deludes  the  sentimental.  There  are 
other  places  sacred  to  many  where  submission  of 
the  will,  rather  than  an  athletic  and  scholarly 
faith,  is  fostered.  There  are  hothouse  methods 
of  religious  culture  which  nurture  placid  feelings 
rather  than  a  courageous  life. 

Many  are  seeking  with  greater  or  less  earn- 
estness to  cultivate  the  spiritual  life  without 
Christ.  The  older  faith  emphasized  knowing  the 
truth  as  the  porch  to  the  temple  of  truth;  the 
new  trend  is  toward  being — character.  Many 
have  been  tortured  and  put  to  death  for  refusing 
to  subscribe  to  a  creed.  Man}7  now  are  denying 
the  need  of  any  creed.  Religion  is  often  regarded 
now  as  a  better  life,  high  thinking,  lofty  phras- 
ing, sometimes  with  not  a  little  self-conceit.  Few 
are  in  danger  now  from  the  mistake  of  Amiel, 
who  may  have  confused  the  aches  of  a  dyspeptic 
stomach  with  a  longing  after  holiness.  He  said 
that  from  three  to  four  in  the  afternoon  he  suf- 
fered most,  and  was  the  prey  of  a  vague  anxiety. 
"It  is  a  sense  of  void  and  anguish;  a  sense  of 
something  lacking.  What?  Love,  peace,  God; 
perhaps."  The  hour  of  lowest  psycho-physio- 
logical activity  is,  in  general,  from  three  to  four. 
The  good  man  was  in  the  tortures  of  indigestion. 

Let  me  quote  from  a  study  of  the  contents  of 
the  religious  consciousness,  by  Prof.  James  H. 
Leuba : 

"  The  God  who  rises  before  the  Protestant  An- 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED        53 

glo-Saxon  in  his  religious  moods  does  not  ordinarily 
throw  him  upon  His  knees.  God  has  remained  for 
him  the  bestower  of  the  things  he  wants.  He  uses 
Him  with  the  bluntness  of  the  aggressive  child  of 
a  domineering  century,  well-nigh  stranger  to  the 
emotions  of  fear,  awe,  and  reverence.  He  is  used 
sometimes  as  meat-purveyor,  as  moral  support,  as 
friend,  as  object  of  love.  If  He  proves  Himself 
useful  His  right  to  remain  in  the  service  of  man  is 
vindicated.  Not  God  but  life — life,  larger,  richer, 
more  satisfying  life  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  the  end 
of  religion." 

There  is  much  in  this  to  appeal  to  the  aver- 
age mind  of  today.  The  fallacy  lies  in  what 
is  omitted,  and  what  the  history  of  the  race  has 
proved  indispensable  to  the  abiding  in  the  rich- 
est and  fullest  life.  The  race  is  coming  to  a  de- 
cided consciousness  of  the  value  and  importance 
of  the  individual,  and  has  not  quite  co-ordinated 
this  notion  with  some  other  truths.  Thought, 
like  life,  is  rhythmic.  Just  now,  man  is  ahead. 
Later,  we  shall  see  that  life  can  be  kept  strong 
and  true  only  by  vital  friendship  with  God  in 
Christ.  This  is  seen  by  clear  thinkers  like  Prof. 
Wm.  James,  who  sums  up  the  conclusions  of  his 
great  book,  "Varieties  of  Religious  Experience," 
in  these  words : 

"  We  and  God  have  business  with  each  other, 
and  in  opening  ourselves  to  His  influence  our  deep- 
est destiny  is  fulfilled.  By  being  religious  we  es- 
tablish ourselves  in  possession  of  ultimate  reality  at 
the  only  points  at  which  reality  is  given  us  to  guard. 
Let  us  agree  that  religion,  occupying  herself  with 


54  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

personal  destiny,  and  keeping  thus  in  contact  with 
the  only  absolute  revelation  which  we  know,  must 
play  an  eternal  part  in  human  history." 

II.  This  leads  us  to  consider  the  Christianity 
needed  to-day.  Personal  religious  experience 
touching  the  larger  self  which  lies  about  us  and 
beyond  has  often  created  a  mysticism  which 
plumes  itself  upon  dissolving  all  barriers  between 
the  individual  and  the  Absolute,  and  becomes  an 
achievement  of  the  feeling  which  finds  expression 
in  the  confession,  "I  have  nothing,  I  can  do 
nothing,  I  am  nothing,"  —  the  submission  of  a 
slave  rather  than  the  resignation  of  a  soldier.  It 
is  one-sided,  strained,  unbalanced.  It  broods 
over  its  own  experiences ;  studies  feelings 
rather  than  conduct.  That  is  imperfect,  because 
it  lacks  intelligent  and  historical  contents,  vigor, 
courage,  aggressive  action,  and  is  liable  to  lead 
one  into  a  dreamy  and  sentimental  realm  of  un- 
reality and  langour.  We  are  in  danger  from  a 
Christianity  of  this  kind  now.  It  is  already 
among  us,  for  the  mind  reacts  from  the  chilling 
materialism  of  the  past,  and  longs  for  God.  We 
need  more  meditation;  we  need  an  escape  from 
the  rush  and  shallowness  of  this  swift  age  in 
union  with  the  every-day,  practical  Christ. 
Every  experience  is  imperfect  which  does  not 
bring  us  into  personal  fellowship  with  Jesus 
Christ,  who  alone  reveals  the  two  indispensable 
elements  of  final  religion,  filial  confidence,  and  a 
sense  of  human  brotherhood.     There  is  a  mysti- 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED        55 

cal  element  in  all  true  religion,  eager  for  absorp- 
tion in  the  universal  soul.  False  mysticism  is 
egoistic — solitary.  True  Christianity  finds  God 
in  nature,  friendship,  every  form  of  existence. 
Science  is  honored  because  God  is  found  as  really 
in  the  stars  as  in  the  soul.  True  Christianity  is 
trustful  and  social.  It  has  contents,  reason, 
body,  for  it  is  the  reaction  of  the  soul  upon  the 
reality  that  surrounds  it,  and  is  fed  by  the  in- 
dwelling of  Christ,  who  alone  creates  within  the 
soul  an  assurance  of  God  as  present,  forgiving, 
reconciling,  sympathizing,  loving;  and  it  is  con- 
stantly seeking  expression  in  action. 

"This  is  eternal  life — to  know  thee,  the  only 
true  God  and  Jesus  Christ."  Our  only  safety 
lies  in  cultivating  a  faith  like  Christ's,  a  perfect 
harmony  of  love  for  God,  service  for  men,  and  a 
realization  of  personal  manhood.  No  unknown 
gods  will  long  meet  the  need.  No  vague  emotion, 
or  self-satisfied  reverie,  or  passionless  dreaming, 
will  stand  the  test  of  a  practical  age,  or  content 
the  soul  that  hungers  for  the  living  God.  Facts 
and  truths  which  the  mind  can  grasp  and  see  the 
reason  for  and  the  results  of  in  the  life,  which 
the  experience  proves  real,  are  found  only  in  the 
Evangel. 

The  true  Christian  faith  must  contain  at  least 
these  three  elements:  It  must  be  intelligent,  prac- 
tical, and  personal  in  fellowship  with  the  Son  of 
God. 

1.     It  must  be  intelligent.     Mental  confusion, 


56  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

brain  paralysis,  blind  obedience  to  authority,  or 
to  the  past,  must  not  be  canonized.  It  is  too  late 
to  stifle  the  most  exacting  examination  of  the 
Bible — too  late  to  fear  the  bugbears  of  evolution 
or  higher  criticism.  If  Christianity  is  to  be  the 
world  faith,  it  must  welcome  truth  from  every 
quarter  and  face  every  challenge  of  a  scientific 
age.  The  stages  of  "Yes,  No,  Yes"  must  be 
traversed  with  calmness  and  courage.  Explora- 
tions, criticisms,  sharpest  probings  should  go  on. 
The  more  thorough  the  better  in  the  end.  The 
truth  will  shine  the  brighter,  later,  and  fear  give 
place  to  a  "peace  not  like  that  of  Lethe's  deadly 
calm."  A  true  faith  has  for  its  field  not  only 
feelings,  but  also  the  reason,  the  judgment,  clear 
insight,  larger  vision. 

2.  It  must  be  practical.  We  must  have  a 
faith  which  works  by  love,  scorns  shams,  hates 
hypocrisy,  and  loaths  selfish  revery.  In  this 
time  of  stress  and  storm,  the  tendency  to  empha- 
size character,  good  deeds,  an  honorable  life,  is 
a  good  sign,  and  a  clear  prophecy  of  better  days. 
We  must  learn,  as  De  Witt  Hyde,  tells  us  in  his 
Practical  Idealism,  "to  see  life  clear  and  see  it 
whole ;  to  feel  the  presence  of  the  Infinite  in  its 
lowliest  and  humblest  finite  forms ;  to  do  the 
daily  duty  and  fulfill  the  homely  task,  as  the 
particular  points  where  our  hearts  greet  the  uni- 
versal love,  and  our  wills  unite  with  the  divine." 
We  hail  the  dawn  of  the  new  day  as  we  look  upon 
the     missionary     and     philanthropic     enterprises 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  NEEDED        57 

springing  up  on  every  side.  A  faith  that  does 
not  lead  one  to  follow  Christ  in  a  passionate 
energy  and  tireless  thoughtfulness  in  doing  good 
is  weak  and  pitiful. 

3.  It  must  be  personal  in  its  fellowship  with 
Christ.  We  are  in  immediate  contact  with  God 
through  Christ,  and  history  shows  that  only  as 
we  keep  our  faith  in  Christ  living  and  real,  will 
our  religion  be  strong,  well-balanced,  and  per- 
manent in  its  grasp  upon  the  known  and  the 
unknown.  Christ  is  the  heart  of  Christianity. 
Without  His  teachings  to  guide  and  correct,  our 
faith  becomes  a  dream,  our  prayer  a  soliloquy, 
our  spiritual  life  unreal.  Religious  faith  with- 
out forgiveness  of  sins  were  a  house  on  the  sand. 
A  spiritual  kingdom  without  adoration  and 
service  of  the  King  were  anarchy.  Henry 
Churchill  King  puts  it  thus  in  his  Reconstruc- 
tion of  Theology:  "There  is  no  greater  need  in 
religious  living  and  theological  thinking  to-day 
than  a  thorough-going  and  consistent  hold  on 
Christ's  thought  of  religion  as  a  personal  rela- 
tion with  God."  "Vital"  is  the  word  which  best 
expresses  Prof.  W.  N.  Clark's  conception  of  the 
redeeming  work  of  Christ.  "Religion,"  as  Lotze 
taught  us,  "is  a  deed" 

The  Christian  faith  we  need  is  intelligent, 
practical,  and  personal  in  our  deepening  friend- 
ship with  Christ,  with  its  surrender,  His  and 
ours ;  with  mutual  trust,  constant  fellowship,  re- 
sponsive love,  so  real  and  inspiring  that  it  shall 


58  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

make  us  strong.  We  need  not  so  much  a  faith 
in  a  past  resurrection,  though  our  faith  must  be 
linked  with  history,  and  joined  with  an  event 
which  created  Christianity  out  of  the  lacerated 
and  marble  contents  of  Joseph's  tomb ;  nor  so 
much  a  confidence  that  Jesus  is  to  come  by  and 
by,  necessary  as  is  that  to  keep  the  hope  serene: 
we  need  a  faith  in  a  Saviour  who  rises  in  us  daily, 
is  with  us  here  and  now,  with  words  and  spirit  of 
life,  and  treasures  of  immortality.  With  that 
consciousness  of  the  presence  of  the  living  Master 
the  gospel  will  cease  to  be  a  "tale  of  little  mean- 
ing though  the  words  are  strong,"  our  daily  con- 
duct will  be  spiritual:  God's  life  the  light  of  our 
consciences,  perfect  in  joy  and  love.  Then  shall 
our  Christian  faith,  our  spiritual  vision,  our 
hidden  and  conquering  strength,  grandly  meet 
the  needs  of  to-day  and  go  out  with  calmness 
and  courage  to  welcome  the  problems  and  over- 
come the  perils  of  to-morrow. 


VI 

A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE 

My  story  is  of  a  minister  who  was  with  a 
church  in  penetrating  and  abiding  influence.  It 
was  a  good  church,  and  the  ministry  had  been  de- 
voted and  true,  but  a  singular  and  beautiful  era 
came  when  this  good  friend  of  Jesus  became  the 
pastor  in  Shiloh.    Will  you  read  the  tale? 

The  minister  had  a  fresh  conviction  of  the 
fact  that  he  went  to  that  people  as  one  whom 
Jesus  Christ  had  sent  with  a  definite  message 
from  God,  a  message  of  warning  against  the 
sinfulness,  the  delusiveness,  the  danger  of  sin,  and 
with  this,  a  burning  conviction  of  the  redeem- 
ing power  of  the  gospel  of  a  crucified  Saviour 
and  a  life-giving  Spirit.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
use  sometimes  those  dark,  fearful  words  which  the 
Scriptures  contain  to  describe  the  perils  which 
threaten  the  impenitent,  but  he  always  did  it  so 
tenderly  and  gently  that  he  seemed  like  a  loving 
father  warning  his  children.  With  warning  he 
always  coupled  hope,  and  it  was  fine  to  see  his 
face  light  up  as  it  always  did  when  he  spoke  of 
the  love  of  Christ,  whose  salvation  ever  seemed 
to  be  to  him  a  glad  and  wonderful  surprise. 

The  whole  service  in  church  was  a  good  stage 
heavenward,  partly  because  every  one  came  to 
expect  it,  partly  because  the  people  went  to 
59 


60  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

church  believing  that  their  minister  would  give 
them  a  message  straight  from  the  heart  of 
Christ,  made  living  in  his  own  experience,  and 
also  because  he  put  meaning  into  every  part  of 
the  service.  He  firmly  believed  that  the  Spirit 
uses  a  hymn,  a  prayer,  a  passage  of  Scripture  as 
well  as  a  sermon  to  help  float  a  congregation  God- 
ward.  He  remembered  Spurgeon's  saying  that 
he  knew  of  two  persons  led  to  Jesus  by  the  read- 
ing of  a  hymn.  He  sometimes  read  the  hymns 
and  sometimes  not,  for  he  shrank  from  the  stere- 
otyped, but  he  always  put  heart,  love,  and  en- 
thusiasm into  the  minutest  detail;  even  the  offer- 
ing came  to  be  a  service  to  God,  as  though  Christ 
were  there  to  receive  the  money  in  his  scarred 
hand.  Some  one  said  once,  "It  would  be  an  in- 
spiration to  hear  George  William  Curtis  repeat 
the  multiplication  table."  This  clear-headed 
minister  gave  distinction  even  to  the  "notices." 
A  prayer  service  became  a  goal  to  be  taken  by 
violence,  and  a  sewing  society  as  privileged  as 
"the  upper  room" ;  nickel  changed  to  silver,  and 
copper  shone  with  golden  hue  under  the  spell  of 
his  thoughtful  and  finished  sentences. 

He  broke  away  from  the  feeling  that  the  min- 
istry is  a  profession.  On  Sunday  morning,  after 
careful  preparation  for  the  devotions  in  church 
and  for  the  sermon,  he  would  go  aside  and  lie 
down  for  a  little,  to  gain  rest  and  poise  and  to 
gather  strength  for  the  coming  service.  He  well 
knew  that  his  best  was  demanded  and  that  the 


A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE        61 

service  would  carry  joy  to  men  and  angels.  He 
used  to  say  to  Jesus  before  going  into  the  pul- 
pit: "Now,  Master,  it  is  your  own  work  and 
these  dear  souls  are  all  yours.  You  must  be  sure 
to  go  with  me  today.  I  wish  my  sermon  were  in 
better  shape,  but  I  have  tried  to  receive  just 
what  you  had  for  me  today,  and  it  is  wholly  for 
you  and  yours.  I  know  you  can  use  me  today  to 
help  some  one  who  needs  comfort,  warning  or  in- 
spiration:"— and  the  living  Saviour  never  failed 
him. 

There  was  much  variety  in  his  preaching. 
Sometimes  he  took  a  doctrine,  but  he  made  it  so 
concrete  and  vivid  that  when  the  people  went 
away  they  never  said,  "I  hate  to  hear  a  doctrinal 
sermon."  The  doctrine  was  in  such  thorough 
solution  in  his  clear  and  impassioned  address 
that  Deacon  Hart  said  one  day  to  a  neighbor: 
"How  clearly  our  minister  pictures  God  as 
Father;  Jesus  as  our  infinite  Saviour;  the  Holy 
Spirit  as  the  creative  author  of  life,  and  the  fatal 
misery  and  penalty  of  sin  as  a  truth  which  ap- 
peals to  us  all;"  and  Fred  Harris,  the  lively 
Yale  sophomore,  said,  "That  sermon  on  prayer 
made  me  feel  that  praying  is  about  the  best 
thing  a  fellow  can  do.  It  may  be  a  fine  kind 
of  coaching." 

Knowing  that  people  think  in  pictures,  or, 
dulled  and  wearied  by  abstractions,  pass  into 
dreamland,  he  made  much  use  of  imagery,  often 
telling  what  the  gospel  is  like,  going  into  every- 


62  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

day  life,  the  shop,  the  kitchen,  and  the  garden 
for  illustrations.  He  remembered  how  Wendell 
Phillips  used  to  carry  his  audience  captive  by 
vivid  pictures,  concrete  instances.  Sometimes 
he  took  a  book  of  the  Bible  for  a  study,  and 
people  would  go  away  with  a  fadeless  vision  of 
Hosea,  or  would  say,  "How  inspiring  that  Paul 
could  write  from  prison  such  a  letter  as  that  to 
the  Philippians !"  He  remembered  what  Dr. 
William  Adams  used  to  say  to  his  students,  "Do 
not  feed  your  people  always  with  crumbs, — give 
them  good  slices."  Sometimes  he  would  take  a 
chapter  or  ten  verses  for  text,  and  the  people 
would  say,  "We've  had  a  rich  slice  of  the  bread 
of  life  today."  He  did  not  forget  that  he  was 
an  apostle  of  the  twentieth  century,  yet  he  never 
awakened  the  remark,  "Our  minister  preaches  to 
the  times  and  not  to  the  eternities."  Moral  re- 
forms had  a  place  in  his  sermons,  but  he  used  to 
say,  "What  is  the  use  of  stirring  up  trouble  un- 
less one  is  likely  to  do  good?"  He  was  a  stu- 
dent, and  every  morning  found  him  among  his 
books,  and  he  instructed  his  people  on  the  bear- 
ing of  religion  upon  science  and  criticism,  for  he 
thought  it  better  that  they  should  be  well 
grounded  and  intelligent  concerning  the  sources 
of  faith,  and  ready  with  a  clear  answer  to  the 
shallow  critic,  than  exposed  to  surprise  and  dis- 
may at  captious  remarks ;  but  he  never  forgot 
that  he  was  called  of  God  to  be  a  good  minister 
of  the  gospel  of  salvation,  and  he  never  dreamed 
that  salvation  spelled  criticism. 


A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE        63 

There  was  a  stirring  note  of  joy  in  his  preach- 
ing. He  found  the  keynote  of  the  Bible  to  be 
joy,  and  he  used  to  say,  "We  are  rehearsing  for 
the  heavenly  anthem."  One  hearer  said,  "I've 
been  in  the  Christian  life  thirty  years  and  I  never 
before  realized  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is  to  be 
a  Christian."  He  never  preached  a  sermon  with- 
out definite  aim  and  without  expecting  that  that 
sermon  would  be  an  event  in  some  life  for  which 
he  had  been  praying.  He  preached  much  on  the 
great  themes,  and  always  moved  on  a  high  level 
of  thought,  though  never  without  a  deep  sympa- 
thy with  the  burdened  and  the  obscure.  When- 
ever tempted  to  drop  beneath  the  level  of  noble 
thought  and  refined  feeling,  he  brought  himself 
back  like  lightning  as  he  reflected  that  Jesus 
was  in  the  pulpit  with  him. 

He  used  to  say  that  his  most  effective  work 
was  organized  work, — one  sermon  linked  to  an- 
other, to  create  a  definite  and  cumulative  im- 
pression. He  was  careful  to  address  the  will, 
but  always  by  awakening  the  emotions  and  driv- 
ing home  the  truth,  as  the  old  warriors  used  to 
drive  the  glittering  edge  of  polished  steel  with 
all  their  might.  He  used  to  say  he  had  three 
rules  for  speaking  which  he  learned  from  his 
great  teacher,  Prof.  R.  D.  Hitchcock.  As  to 
clearness,  find  out  what  you  would  say  and  say 
it.  Beauty  is  nothing  put  on,  but  the  flash  of 
thought.  Force  is  putting  will  into  it.  He 
liked  to  write  his  sermons    through    at  one  heat, 


64  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

and  then  he  spent  all  the  time  he  could  spare  in 
polishing,  condensing,  and  strengthening  the 
sentences,  that  they  might  carry  the  message  to 
the  mind  with  the  least  possible  friction.  He 
used  to  say,  "The  longer  I  live  the  more  I  am 
impressed  with  two  facts:  that  it  makes  much 
difference  how  a  thing  is  put,  and  also  the 
power  of  an  impassioned  will  gathering  the  en- 
ergies of  the  soul  together  to  launch  the  truth." 
Being  a  puritan,  he  had  a  conscience,  and  he 
took  for  granted  that  his  hearers  were  simi- 
larly endowed.  He  used  to  say  sometimes,  "I 
have  a  conscience  as  well  as  you.  It  is  no  better 
than  yours,  but  it  is  all  I  have." 

He  never  preached  in  the  minor  key  but  al- 
ways with  a  fine  ring  of  triumph.  He  was  al- 
ways careful  to  close  with  the  expectant  note. 
He  was  careful  to  cultivate  his  own  soul.  Among 
his  books  of  devotion,  Richard  Cecil  easily  stood 
next  the  Bible,  and  he  used  to  read  over  and 
over  these  words  of  that  English  minister  of  a 
century  ago,  "The  grand  aim  of  a  minister  must 
be  the  exhibition  of  gospel  truth.  His  first  duty 
is  to  call  on  his  hearers  to  turn  to  the  Lord. 
Men  who  lean  toward  the  extreme  of  evangelical 
privileges  do  much  more  than  they  who  lean 
toward  the  extreme  of  requirements.  To  know 
Jesus  Christ  for  ourselves  is  to  make  Him  con- 
solation, delight,  strength,  righteousness,  com- 
panion, and  end." 

I  must  not  invade  his  secret  life  to  tell  you 


A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE        65 

how  he  daily  talked  with  God;  sometimes  sitting 
in  his  study  with  an  empty  chair  near  by,  which 
was  not  empty  to  him,  or  standing  for  a  mo- 
ment as  he  was  about  to  go  out, — for  another 
eager  word  with  Jesus.  He  regarded  prayer  for 
his  people  as  important  as  calling  or  preaching. 

In  this  minister's  prayers  in  the  pulpit,  he 
seemed  like  a  father  gathering  his  dear  chil- 
dren together  around  the  throne  of  heavenly 
bounty,  and  people  would  say,  "The  prayer  was 
a  sacrament,  we  were  in  the  holy  of  holies." 

It  was  clear  that  conversation  with  Christ 
was  a  daily  practice  and  that  he  left  neither  ob- 
jects nor  language  of  public  prayer  to  the  hour 
in  the  pulpit.  Some  one  said  once,  "I  believe 
our  pastor  must  have  a  book  where  he  writes 
prayers  when  life  is  at  high  tide,  to  inspire  when 
the  ebb  lingers  wearily  on  the  beach." 

His  manner  was  serious  yet  cheerful;  noble 
yet  sympathetic.  Not  believing  it  necessary  to 
canonize  solemnity  at  the  risk  of  dullness,  he  was 
not  afraid  to  call  up  a  smile,  though  he  ever 
talked  as  a  living  man  to  living  men. 

What  shall  I  say  of  his  daily  life?  There 
rang  through  his  soul  the  words  of  a  charge 
given  him  at  his  ordination,  "So  live  that  when 
people  see  you  in  the  street  they  shall  think  that 
you  are  walking  with  Christ." 

It  was  a  joy  to  him  to  be  with  his  people  in 
their  homes.  He  went  to  them  as  a  friend,  and 
more,  as  a  good  shepherd,  eager  to  feed,  restrain, 


66  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

guide,  quicken  any  who  needed  his  wise  counsels. 
On  returning  from  an  afternoon  in  the  parish 
he  could  neither  study  nor  read,  so  weary  and 
burdened  was  he.  He  thought  much  of  the  needs 
of  his  people.  His  prayer  list  kept  changing, 
as  one  by  one  the  repentant  took  the  place  of  the 
indifferent.  He  felt  a  keen  responsibility  for  the 
conversion  and  growth  of  every  one  under  his  care 
and  once  a  year  at  least  he  sought  in  some  way  to 
bring  the  gospel  personally  to  every  impenitent 
life.  In  calling,  he  ever  sought  the  guidance  of 
the  Good  Shepherd,  and  he  never  declined  when 
the  voice  said,  "Let  us  go  thither,  rather  than  yon- 
der." His  calls  were  always  friendly,  but  not  al- 
ways purely  social,  for  he  went  as  an  artist  of  the 
spiritual  life  with  mind  enraptured  with  eternal 
realities.  He  entered  with  sympathy  into  the  lives 
of  his  people,  but  never  as  a  meddler  or  busybody ; 
— now  becoming  a  burdened  father  anxious  for 
his  son;  now  a  merry  schoolboy;  now  a  weary 
sufferer.  He  had  no  rule  about  praying  in  the 
homes,  but  he  was  on  the  lookout  for  the  best 
way  to  mingle  the  spiritual  life  with  common 
tasks,  and  when  he  knelt  for  a  moment  of  audible 
prayer  it  seemed  as  natural  as  the  jest  which  fell 
as  a  pearl  from  his  pure  lips.  After  praying  he 
went  right  away,  as  Maclaren  says,  "Bidding  his 
people  good-by  before  the  throne  of  grace,  and 
in  the  very  presence  of  the  Lord." 

He  had  a  warm  place  in  the  love  of  his  people 
because  he  gave  so  freely    to  them    all  he  was. 


A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE        67 

They  felt  they  could  pour  out  their  cares  and 
he  would  keep  their  confidence  as  sacred  as  his 
life. 

The  ministry  was  his  calling  and  not  his  busi- 
ness, yet  he  made  a  business  of  his  ministry.  He 
was  careful  in  the  use  of  time,  yet  he  never 
seemed  in  a  hurry.  There  was  a  fine  dignity  in 
him  which  sometimes  asserted  itself.  One  day  he 
called  at  an  office.  "Call  again,  an  hour  is  noth- 
ing to  a  minister,"  said  the  business  man.  There 
flew  to  his  lips  Cecil's  words,  "An  hour  nothing 
to  a  minister!  You  little  understand  the  nature 
of  our  profession.  One  hour  of  a  minister's  time, 
rightly  employed,  sir,  is  worth  more  to  him  than 
all  the  gains  of  your  merchandise." 

Was  this  good  minister  never  disheartened? 
Yes,  and  at  such  times  he  liked  to  read  Cecil's 
words,  "Perhaps  it  is  a  greater  energy  of  divine 
power  which  keeps  the  Christian  from  day  to 
day,  praying,  hoping,  believing,  than  that  which 
bears  him  up  for  an  hour  at  the  stake ;"  and  Em- 
erson's great  message  to  the  preacher,  "Dis- 
charge to  them  the  priestly  office,  and  present  or 
absent  you  shall  be  followed  by  their  love  as  an 
angel.  The  true  preacher  is  known  by  this,  that 
he  deals  out  to  people  his  life."  So  much  for 
this  effective  minister  who  received  the  truth  at 
first  hand  from  the  Bible  and  the  Spirit  and  gave 
it  forth  through  his  own  life  as  current  coin  in 
the  King's  realm  where  he  moved  in  royal  gen- 
tleness. 


68  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

The  people!  It  is  they  who  were  largely  re- 
sponsible for  the  best  results  of  this  ministry. 
Their  charity  and  devotion,  their  readiness  to 
respond  and  to  do  their  part  created  a  watered 
garden  in  which  the  minister's  graces  nourished. 
There  is  something  in  what  Gladstone  says, 
"Eloquence  is  a  giving  back  in  rain  what  the 
speaker  receives  in  mist."  There  is  much  in  the 
saying,  "A  responsive  and  praying  people  call 
forth  the  best  that  is  in  their  minister."  Those 
Christians  in  Shiloh  knew  the  Bible  and  human 
nature,  and  that  united  faith,  sympathy,  and 
hard  work  form  a  mighty  church.  They  took 
religion  seriously ;  put  thought  and  time  into  it ; 
most  of  them  believed  that  morning  prayer  is  as 
important  as  breakfast,  and  the  prayer-meeting 
as  valuable  as  a  bridge-whist  party.  They  went 
to  church  in  the  spirit  of  Emerson's  thought, 
"We  come  to  church  properly  for  self-examina- 
tion ;  for  approach  to  principles ;  to  see  how  it 
stands  with  us  with  the  deep  and  dear  facts  of 
life  and  love."  Whenever  the  sermon  was  less 
finished  and  strong  than  usual,  they  said  nothing 
but  words  of  kindness,  and  remembered  that  no 
clock  strikes  twelve  every  hour;  that  on  some 
days  bread  is  heavy  and  the  cake  falls.  When- 
ever he  made  a  blunder,  they  had  sense  enough 
to  recall  the  fact  that  they  lived  in  houses  of 
crystal.  When  a  brother  faltered  they  acted  on 
Burke's  words,  "Applaud  us  when  we  run;  con- 
sole us  when  we  fall;  cheer  us  when  we  recover, 


A  MINISTER  AND  HIS  PEOPLE        69 

but  let  us  pass  on — for  God's  sake,  let  us  pass 
on." 

They  noticed  that  the  church  in  Sodom  Val- 
ley was  usually  in  trouble;  ministers  were  fleet- 
ing, and  a  Shiloh  deacon  said,  "The  Sodom  folks 
shrink  from  a  straight  message,  and  they  turn 
the  dinner  hour  on  Sunday  into  a  forum  to  dis- 
cuss the  minister  in  sharp  criticism."  The  Shi- 
loh people  felt  about  unkind  scrutiny  of  their 
minister  as  you  would  feel  about  bitter  words 
concerning  your  mother.  They  remembered  that 
Jesus  had  called  them  to  be  skilful  and  winsome 
"fishers,"  not  critics.  As  the  minister  gave  his 
best  to  them  so  they  gave  their  best  to  him.  His 
salary  was  paid  generously,  gladly  and 
promptly.  They  went  to  church  so  joyfully 
and  welcomed  strangers  so  cordially  that  the 
service  came  to  be  thought  of  as  a  festival  of 
friendliness  and  holiness.  They  were  clear  that 
the  business  of  the  church  is  fourfold:  worship, 
instruction,  inspiration,  and  service. 

Over  in  Gomorrah,  the  people  thought  that 
the  minister  was  hired  to  do  the  praying  as  well 
as  the  preaching,  and  the  minister's  wife  was  an 
unpaid,  economical  helper, — not  so  in  Shiloh, 
where  the  people  felt  that  they  were  called  and 
ordained  almost  as  really  as  the  minister. 

So  the  years  went  by  in  happy  Shiloh;  beau- 
tiful years.  The  whole  town  was  enriched  with 
kindness,  fairness,  courage,  and  love.  Many  en- 
tered the  kingdom;  many  were  trained  in  char- 


70  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

acter;  the  downcast  were  strengthened  by  visions 
and  rich  truth.  The  minister  said,  "I  would  not 
exchange  my  church  for  any  other  in  the  world," 
and  the  people  said,  "Our  minister  makes  God 
seem  so  near,  the  kingdom  so  real,  and  daily  life 
so  rich  in  occasions  for  royal  service,  that  we 
wonder  if  heaven  can  be  much  better." 


VII 

SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE  IN 
PREACHING 

We  look  first  at  the  preacher's  task,  which  is 
to  build  up  character  in  Christian  principle.  We 
ministers  stand  before  our  people,  knowing  that 
in  the  moments  of  public  worship  we  bring  them 
"the  deep  and  dear  facts  of  life  and  love,  the 
great  lines  of  destiny." 

Sharp  criticisms  from  every  side  disturb  our 
ease.  Says  Prof.  Momerie,  "If  the  church  is  to 
live,  not  merely  as  an  establishment,  but  in  any 
form  at  all,  preaching  must  be  either  abolished  or 
reformed."  People  say  they  want  preaching,  but 
their  state  of  mind  reminds  us  of  a  recruit  in 
Coxey's  army  who  said  "We  don't  know  what  we 
want,  but  we  want  something  awful  bad,  and  we 
want  it  awful  quick." 

In  our  perplexity  and  dismay  we  sometimes 
feel,  as  we  think  of  our  sermons,  as  an  amateur 
artist  felt  when  he  asked  a  friend  how  much  he 
ought  to  get  for  his  picture,  and  the  candid  friend 
replied,  "about  six  months."  One  urges,  "preach 
the  old  Gospel,"  and  omits  an  explanation  how  to 
make  it  new.  A  distinguished  minister  said  his 
mother  exacted  from  him  a  promise  to  preach  so 
that  every  sermon  would  contain  a  call  to  Christ. 
That  cannot  mean  a  repetition  of  dear,  familiar 
71 


72  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

phrases.  What  would  you  think  of  a  professor  of 
engineering  who  should  tell  his  classes  that  since 
all  discoveries  in  mathematics  depend  on  a  clear 
knowledge  of  first  principles  he  would  refuse  to 
cater  to  the  restlessness  of  the  present  and  a  love 
for  novelty  and  content  himself  every  day  by  re- 
citing the  old  truths  of  the  multiplication  table. 

We  all  agree  that  the  business  of  the  minister  is 
to  preach  Christ;  he  is  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
God's  revelation  of  eternal  life;  a  gospel  which 
meets  every  need  of  human  life,  rebuilds  manhood 
and  prepares  for  a  long  career.  We  are  called  to 
enter  every  field  of  thought,  use  any  subject, 
truth  or  argument  which  shall  establish  men  in 
Christian  character  and  the  practice  of  Christian 
principle.  The  minister  knows  no  secular  field 
which  should  not  be  penetrated  by  the  gospel.  It 
is  a  vast  area  sweeping  on  past  the  judgment ;  but 
our  business  is  with  seriousness,  tenderness  and 
awe  to  insist  that  eternal  sanctions  and  laws  must 
control  our  daily  living  and  regulate  our  decisions 
and  conduct. 

We  must  deal  with  questions  of  the  hour.  We 
cannot  hope  to  interest  the  people  if  we  do  not ; 
they  live  in  the  present.  There  is  a  danger  of  ca- 
tering to  the  present.  A  minister  of  the  Church 
of  England  in  a  floating  Bethel,  whose  zeal  sur- 
passed his  controversial  reading,  was  asked 
whether  his  Bethel  was  High  Church  or  Low 
Church,  replied,  "That  depends  entirely  on  the 
tide."     We  must  watch  the  tide  and  control  it. 


SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE         73 

It  requires  a  level  head,  a  sense  of  humor,  and 
no  end  of  Christian  principle,  to  handle  the 
truths  which  ought  to  be  presented  in  the  light  of 
the  Bible  and  the  present  Christ.  We  really  ought 
to  be  fine,  broad,  noble-hearted  men ;  and  we  must 
interest  people  else  they  may  repeat  to  us  the 
lines  of  Crabbe's  Convert. 

"  That  from  your  meetings  I  refrain,  'tis  true ; 
I  meet  with  nothing  pleasant,  nothing  new, 
But  the  same  proofs  that  not  one  thing  explain, 
And  the  same  lights  when  all  things  dark  remain." 

Our  dryness  is  not  always  due  to  the  depravity 
of  the  people  who  slumber  before  us,  but  some- 
times to  shadows  of  puritanism  upon  us  which 
overlook  the  grace  of  humor  and  that  sunny  side 
of  our  nature  which  is  as  divine  as  solemnity. 

The  preacher  is  the  only  orator  in  the  world 
who  neglects  the  power  of  laughter  in  pleading 
for  life  and  death. 

We  are  fishers  of  men.  Dullness  is  an  unpar- 
donable sin.  Questions  of  the  hour  need  discus- 
sion in  the  light  of  Christ  and  common  sense ;  any 
other  notion  would  imply  that  the  gospel  is  a  sys- 
tem of  barren  abstractions  with  no  bearing  on 
daily  life.  Our  fear  should  be,  not  that  we  shall 
widen  the  field  too  much,  but  that  we  shall  make  it 
too  narrow.  If  a  sinful  practice  is  going  on  in 
the  community  and  the  preacher  does  not  strike 
it,  he  fails  in  duty.  Beecher  said:  "It  seems  to 
me  to  be  a  very  dangerous  thing  to  preach  Christ 
so  that  your  preaching  shall  not  be  a  constant  re- 


74  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

buke  to  all  the  evil  in  the  community."  What 
interest  of  a  man  is  aloof  from  the  gospel?  And 
if  we  do  not  so  use  the  moments  of  worship  that 
the  secular  life  shall  be  more  intelligently  Christ- 
like, pure,  rich,  strong,  of  what  value  is  preach- 
ing? 

Preaching  is  building  Christian  character. 

The  first  fact  we  face  is  the  idea  of  evolution. 
A  half  century  ago  Darwin  published  the  "Origin 
of  Species"  and  the  thought  of  our  time  is  filled 
with  its  spirit  to  such  a  degree  that  it  is  hard  to 
believe  that  we  cannot  outgrow  even  sin.  This 
widespread  principle  tends  to  weaken  the  sense  of 
responsibility  even  more  than  the  strict  determin- 
ism of  a  century  and  a  half  since.  Heredity  and 
environment  are  held  responsible  for  evil,  and  the 
moral  sense  is  poisoned  at  its  source.  Many  think 
that  evils  will  disappear  if  only  society  can  be  re- 
organized ;  the  fact  of  sin  in  the  individual  as  the 
seat  of  all  evil  is  overlooked,  and  a  false  optimism 
encouraged  which  leads  men  to  believe  that  sin 
will  be  left  behind  in  the  onward  march  of  civili- 
zation. 

Another  fact  which  deserves  careful  attention  is 
this,  that  we  have  broken  loose  from  tradition  and 
must  readjust  many  of  our  habits.  The  old  meth- 
ods of  thinking  of  the  Bible,  observing  the  Sab- 
bath, and  amusements  have  passed  away.  For- 
merly there  were  certain  unwritten  laws  in  Chris- 
tian communities  about  novel-reading,  dancing, 
and  many  other  "worldly"  pleasures.        Secular 


SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE        75 

papers  and  books,  letter-writing,  and  driving,  ex- 
cept to  church,  were  contraband  on  the  Sabbath. 
These  theories  have  passed  away.  Every  one 
must  now  find  out  how  to  keep  the  day,  with  the 
result  that  it  is  seldom  kept  at  all.  The  word 
"worldly"  has  almost  ceased  to  be  used.  Freedom 
to  think  and  live  as  one  may  choose  often  passes 
into  license,  and  there  is  need  of  a  deep,  broad 
view  of  the  principles  of  the  kingdom  in  this  age 
of  reconstruction. 

A  third  fact  is  tins,  that  we  are  living  in  an  age 
of  great  material  wealth ;  many  are  content  to  re- 
peat Parker  Pilsbury's  dying  words  to  Thoreau 
who  asked  him  what  new  idea  he  had  caught  of  the 
coming  life,  as  he  stood  on  the  margin,  "Henry, 
one  world  is  enough  at  a  time."  The  pulpit  must 
stand  for  a  broader  view  than  that.  Our  hearers 
should  say  when  returning  from  church,  "There 
are  interests  more  valuable  than  money ;  my  fears 
have  been  removed;  my  hopes  strengthened;  my 
ideals  elevated ;  my  weakness  and  discouragements 
lessened;  Christ  seems  more  real  and  kingly; 
heaven  nearer;  a  life  of  courage  and  honor 
grander ;  there  is  an  eternal  life  of  righteousness 
and  blessedness  which  dwarfs  my  petty  ambi- 
tions." 

This  leads  us  to  ask,  where  should  we  put  our 
emphasis  ? 

First  of  all  on  the  positive  message  of  Christ 
as  the  infinite  Son  of  God  and  able  to  meet  every 
human  need.      Believing  that  all  men  are  God's 


76  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

children,  whom  Christ  restores  to  the  Father,  our 
message  should  be  given  with  the  downward  slide. 

It  is  time  for  the  pulpit  interrogation  mark  to 
hear  the  sunset  gun.  The  upward  inflection  tires. 
The  affirmative,  the  positive  are  needed  today. 
People  have  doubts  enough  of  their  own.  The 
best  apologetic  is  a  clear,  straight  message.  A 
powerful  gospel  is  iron  in  the  blood,  certainty  in 
the  voice,  conviction  in  the  soul. 

If  we  really  believe  that  sin  is  dangerous,  cruel, 
deadly,  and  that  Christ  delivers,  how  can  we  be 
other  than  positive  preachers?  Men  and  women 
burdened,  discouraged,  indifferent,  perplexed, 
look  to  their  minister  to  float  them  heavenward; 
equip  for  temptation;  strengthen  for  struggle; 
prepare  them  to  face  the  near  and  distant  future 
with  a  cheer. 

The  minister  needs  to  have  with  every  sermon 
the  conviction  that  the  truth  it  conveys  comes 
straight  from  the  Christ  of  the  twentieth  century 
for  the  need  of  the  passing  hour  to  form  an  event 
in  some  life.  This  will  give  that  sense  of  new- 
ness and  vitality  which  the  apostles  had.  They 
believed  that  they  went  straight  with  the  living 
Christ,  in  the  grace  of  Christ  to  the  people,  and 
whenever  the  sense  of  newness  has  weakened  the 
gospel  has  lost  power.  Said  John  McNeill,  "God 
give  us  to  preach  a  perpetual  sense  of  a  glad  and 
wonderful  surprise  at  our  own  salvation." 

The  pathetic  picture  of  a  cross  rising  afar 
above  the  dreary  flats  of  time  must  not  dim  our 


SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE        77 

eyes  to  the  view  of  Jesus  Christ  as  very  God,  who 
hates  saloons,  graft,  ill-temper,  evil-speaking, 
and  meanness  of  every  kind  as  He  does  the  Prince 
of  Darkness,  and  offers  a  royal  welcome  to  every 
penitent  soul  whom  He  would  build  up  into  royal 
character. 

The  expression  of  this  message  will  vary  in 
form,  but  there  must  be  a  passage  of  the  clear 
light  of  infinite  truth  living  in  the  eternal  Son 
of  God  through  the  preacher's  mind  to  human 
souls,  or  the  pulpit  confuses  and  hurts. 

The  preacher  may  not  always  be  able  wisely 
and  conclusively  to  apply  the  truth  to  social  un- 
rest, commercial  injustice,  and  intellectual  doubt; 
but  he  must  believe  absolutely  that  there  is  in 
the  republic  of  heavenly  brotherhood  an  answer 
for  every  question,  a  solution  for  every  difficulty, 
a  medicine  for  every  hurt,  a  tonic  for  every  weak- 
ness. Christ's  ambassador  is  a  thinking  lens  for 
the  passage  of  gospel  light.  Strange  if  some  one 
some  time  does  not  enter  the  Kingdom  while  the 
sermon  flashes  the  heavenly  gleam. 

A  second  thing  for  emphasis  is  the  practical- 
ness of  the  Kingdom.  The  clearest  definition  of 
the  Kingdom  I  have  seen  is  "the  world  of  invisible 
laws  by  which  God  is  ruling  and  blessing  His 
creatures." 

It  is  the  business  of  the  preacher  to  so  live  in 
the  Kingdom  and  explain  it  that  its  principles 
shall  appear  as  real  as  gravitation,  the  laws  of 
the  state  or  government  bonds.     He  must  see  the 


78  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

lostness  of  an  impenitent  life,  and  agree  with 
Canon  Liddon  when  he  says,  "If  our  age  has  out- 
grown the  phrase  'the  salvation  of  the  soul,'  so 
much  the  worse  for  the  age."  The  minister  is  not 
a  moral  policeman,  or  a  conductor  on  a  trunk  line 
to  heaven,  or  a  superintendent  of  a  cyclopedia  of 
mild  and  beneficent  endeavors. 

In  our  reaction  from  the  "other-worldliness" 
idea  and  our  eagerness  to  keep  abreast  of  the  lat- 
est fad,  we  should  avoid  the  temptation  to  think 
that  psychotherapy  is  on  a  level  with  repentance ; 
alleviation  of  insomnia  in  the  same  class  with  faith 
in  Christ;  and  conducting  a  swimming  tank  as 
important  as  baptism.  A  holy  life  is  natural  and 
happy.  Sin  is  unnatural,  the  Kingdom's  invis- 
ible laws  are  here,  and  its  resources  ample  for  the 
humbled,  footsore,  hungry  children  of  the  Father. 

The  Christian  ideal  of  life  and  conduct  needs 
applying  to  the  workshop,  the  mill,  the  home;  it 
is  meant  for  employer  and  employed.  Many  bear 
the  burden  of  "duty  unfulfilled"  because  they  are 
not  sure  what  their  duty  is.  The  minister  who 
clearly,  convincingly,  and  practically  applies 
spiritual  laws  to  every  day  life ;  who  helps  people 
to  see  exactly  what  it  is  for  them  to  be  Christians ; 
who  preaches  "as  though  Christ  were  the  head  of 
the  firm,"  is  doing  the  work  to  which  he  is  called. 
Many  care  as  much  for  Moses  as  for  Julius 
Caesar,  and  for  David  as  for  Peter  the  Hermit, 
but  all  are  facing  a  stern,  hard,  delusive  world, 
and  it  is  the  preacher's  task  to  show  the  f riendli- 


SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE        79 

ness  of  Jesus,  the  fulness  of  His  helpfulness  for 
every  hour,  and  the  bearing  of  the  Kingdom  upon 
the  whole  of  life.  Charles  Ferguson  says,  "It  is 
a  superficial  judgment  that  this  is  a  sordid  and 
God-forgetting  age,  because  it  is  occupied  with 
questions  of  board  and  clothes,  and  bent  on  get- 
ting them  settled  right.  It  is  the  greatness  of  the 
age  that  it  is  engrossed  in  economics,  and  that  it 
sees  in  tangible  things  wrought  by  the  labor  of 
men,  sacramental  values,  and  the  materials  of  re- 
ligion. This  is  the  beginning  of  a  new  order  of 
things  more  beautiful  and  joyous  than  has  yet 
been  on  the  earth."  I  believe  that  this  is  abso- 
lutely true  and  the  pulpit  is  the  opportunity  for 
a  clear-sighted,  deep-thinking,  warm-hearted  man 
to  bring  the  eternal  laws  and  sanctions  of  the 
Kingdom  into  the  despairing,  perplexing,  sinful 
ways  of  men. 

The  last  point  for  emphasis  I  will  mention  is 
summoning  men  to  face  God  in  their  present  re- 
sponsibility. Reacting  from  the  preaching 
which  called  men  to  meet  an  angry  judge  armed 
with  deathless  terrors,  we  must  fear  lest  we  pre- 
sent God  as  a  mild  and  fatherly  old  gentleman, 
too  polite  to  hurt  any  one.  Our  theology  is  de- 
fective if  we  think  that  human  fatherhood  is  deep 
and  broad  enough  to  represent  the  Fatherhood  of 
One  who  is  our  Creator  and  the  infinite  Reason  as 
well  as  Father.  We  are  untrue  to  the  Bible,  the 
intrenched  sins  and  defiant  moods  of  selfish  men 
if  the  pulpit  does  not  become  a  frequent  rehearsal 


80  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

of  what  used  to  be  described  as  a  standing  before 
the  great  white  throne.  Flowers  and  rose  water 
will  not  take  the  place  of  pressing  home  to  the 
conscience  the  sinfulness  and  peril  of  an  impeni- 
tent life.  A  breeze  from  Sinai  must  play  about 
the  mountain  of  Beatitudes.  Tenderness,  a  keen 
insight  into  our  own  lives  and  sympathy  with  our 
tempted,  faltering  brothers  are  needed  to  place  the 
righteous  and  loving  God  before  evasive,  ingeni- 
ous and  careless  men  so  that  they  shall  give  the 
Kingdom  first  place  in  conscience  and  practice. 
God  is  skillful  in  using  strange  sermons  if  the 
heart  of  the  preacher  be  sincere,  but  forensic  pic- 
tures, dramatic  arraignments,  in  which  sternness 
overshadows  reasonableness,  lie  not  level  to  many 
a  man  we  should  gladly  win.  God's  patience  must 
be  sorely  taxed  with  the  "eternally  feminine"  note 
which  calls  to  Jesus  because  it  is  healthy  to  be  a 
Christian.  There  must  be  a  way  of  pushing  the 
danger  of  a  sinful  life  home  upon  the  conscience 
which  is  scriptural  and  up  to  date  if  we  have 
earnestness  and  courage  to  find  and  use  it.  It  cer- 
tainly must  be  preached  so  that  men  shall  say 
"That  is  true;  if  I  do  not  repent,  my  pastor  has 
been  faithful."  Perhaps  the  best  verse  to  suggest 
our  work  here  is  "As  a  man  soweth  so  shall  he 
reap."  But  the  preacher  stands  forth  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  Father's  throne.  The  world  ex- 
pects him  to  be  true  to  the  call ;  and  laughs,  pities 
and  passes  by  if  he  is  weak  or  short-sighted 
enough  to  flinch.     Sin  is  dangerous  and  unfor- 


SOME  THINGS  TO  EMPHASIZE        81 

saken  it  must  be  punished.  We  may  use  modern 
terms  to  describe  the  peril  of  the  great  refusal, 
but  if  the  pulpit  does  not  call  a  sharp  halt  to  un- 
righteousness and  lead  men  to  see  that  they  are  on 
the  right  road  or  the  wrong  road,  that  eternity  is 
long,  life  precious,  and  the  human  will  free  and 
responsibile  for  character  and  destiny,  the  gospel 
loses  its  ring  of  power. 

A  treatise  would  relate  other  points  of  empha- 
sis, but  these  are  the  ones  which  seem  to  me  to 
stand  in  the  first  class,  a  clear,  positive  message 
from  God  to  a  sinful,  redeemed  world,  the  prac- 
ticalness of  the  Kingdom  for  every  human  experi- 
ence, and  a  summons  to  a  present  judgment  for 
sin. 


VIII 
EARTHQUAKES  AND  GOD 

We  are  in  a  world  which  daily  challenges  our 
faith  in  God's  Providence,  and  sometimes  a  ca- 
lamity befalls  which  with  strenuous  urgency  in- 
sists on  explanation.  Not  because  it  is  unlike  in 
kind  frequent  occurrences,  but  because  it  is  so  ex- 
tensive, so  dismal,  so  terrific,  that  we  are  obliged 
to  take  up  afresh  the  old  question  we  have  so  often 
and  so  earnestly  tried  to  settle, — does  God  send 
trouble?  Does  He  approve  of  anguish?  There 
is  plenty  of  distress.  One  is  reminded  of  John 
Stuart  Mill's  scathing  indictment:  "Nature  does 
with  the  most  supercilious  disregard  both  of 
mercy  and  justice,  with  hurricane  and  pestilence, 
overmatch  anarchy  and  the  reign  of  terror  in  in- 
justice, ruin  and  death.  We  are  also  reminded 
of  Tennyson's  famous  stanza: 

"  Who  trusted  God  was  love  indeed, 
And  love  creation's  final  law, 
Though  nature  red  with  tooth  and  claw 
With  ravine,  shrieked  against  his  creed." 

Explosions,  tornadoes,  tidal-waves,  conflagra- 
tions, angry  volcanoes,  earthquakes,  pestilences, 
hurry  multitudes  out  of  the  world,  and  leave  as 
many  more  crushed,  maimed,  heart-broken. 
Hecker  estimates  that  the  Black  Death  in  the 
82 


EARTHQUAKES  AND  GOD  83 

fourteenth  century  slaughtered  twenty-five  mil- 
lions; the  earthquake  in  Lisbon  slew  fifty  thou- 
sand, the  Messina-Reggio  earthquake,  two  hun- 
dred thousand. 

Biology  reveals  the  astonishing  fact  that  num- 
berless destructive  living  creatures  besiege  us, — 
bacteria,  bacilli,  germs  of  all  kinds,  malignant, 
watchful,  deadly,  an  army  which  never  sleeps,  is 
never  off  guard.  Without  music  or  banners  it  is 
always  ready,  always  marshalled  by  skilful  and 
energetic  officers.  It  is  swift,  gallant,  determined. 
You  bruise  your  finger,  and  the  advance  guard  is 
on  the  quivering  flesh  in  an  instant,  ready  for 
battle.  There  is  no  sound  of  a  trumpet,  but  there 
is  the  nerve  of  a  Farragut  and  the  doggedness  of 
a  Grant.  In  twenty-four  hours  one  little  sol- 
dier has  a  family  of  sixteen  millions  born  in  a  day, 
and  every  one  as  fierce  and  resolute  as  he. 

Whether  the  lightning  or  the  diptheria  strikes 
your  child,  or  a  wave  at  Galveston  sweeps  away 
six  thousand  in  an  hour,  the  problem  is  the  same. 
We  read  that  seventeen  thousand  persons  are 
killed  or  injured  every  year  in  the  mills,  the  work- 
shops and  on  the  railroads  of  Allegheny  County, 
Pennsylvania.  We  try  to  think  that  the  story  is 
an  exaggeration,  and  with  a  quiver  of  pain  pass 
on  to  the  next  item.  But  when  the  earth  rises  like 
a  giant  awakening  from  sleep,  and  a  noble  city 
falls  in  dust  and  flames  we  ask  "Why?"  So  sur- 
feited with  marvels  are  we,  so  accustomed  to  dis- 
aster, that  we  need  the  terrific  to  make  us  thought- 


84  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ful.     What  are  we  to  think  of  earthquakes  and 
God,  calamities  and  Providence  ? 

1.  Not  that  disasters  are  judgments.  They 
may  be,  but  we  are  not  wise  enough  for  the  judg- 
ment seat  which  decides  on  such  momentous  issues. 
We  are  more  at  home  in  the  seats  of  the  scornful. 
The  theory  of  judgment  was  struck  hard  by  the 
clear  refutal  of  Job's  antiquated  friends,  and 
swept  away  by  Christ's  denial  that  the  people 
crushed  by  Siloam's  tower  were  worse  than  oth- 
ers. Saints  and  sinners  are  partners  in  trouble. 
The  babe  sleeping  in  its  cradle,  the  convict  swear- 
ing in  his  cell,  the  church  and  the  brothel,  the 
home  and  the  rumshop  are  equally  exposed  to  dis- 
aster. Like  sunshine  and  rain,  calamity  falls  on 
the  evil  and  the  good. 

2.  We  cannot  think  that  there  is  no  meaning 
in  harsh  events,  that  God  is  unfeeling,  that  Provi- 
dence is  only  a  cold,  pitiless  force,  running  on  age 
after  age,  mangling,  crushing,  killing,  with  no 
ear  for  shrieks  and  groans, — a  vast  machine, 
stern,  powerful,  heartless,  terrific.  One  Who 
knows  more  than  we  about  the  inner  side  of  Provi- 
dence, assures  us  that  the  twitter  of  the  fallen 
sparrow  calls  forth  a  throb  of  sympathy  in  the 
heart  of  God. 

3.  We  must  try  to  see  the  world  in  a  large 
way,  and  in  the  light  of  its  purpose.  The  world 
is  the  training-ground  of  character.  For 
aught  we  know  it  is  the  best  possible  world  for 
this  purpose.     Who  will  venture  to  say  that  it  is 


EARTHQUAKES  AND  GOD  85 

not?  When  Leibnitz  insisted  that  it  is  the  best 
possible  world,  with  accent  on  possible,  he  meant 
that  the  alternative  was  between  a  world  with 
trouble  and  evil  and  a  world  with  no  free  intelli- 
gences. We  know  too  little  about  world-making 
to  judge  very  accurately.  We  are  not  even  ama- 
teurs. We  must  believe  that  God  is  wise  and  good, 
and  is  in  all  and  over  all,  and  we  find  ourselves  in 
a  very  trying  world.  We  wish  disasters  would 
skip  us  and  our  folks,  but  they  will  not  always  do 
so,  and  when  they  come  we  must  try  to  be  men. 
We  must  remember  that  in  a  world  large  enough 
to  have  an  atmosphere,  there  must  be  vast  oceans, 
mighty  currents,  delicate  cloud-balancings,  and 
if  an  occasional  tornado  or  cloudburst  works 
havoc,  we  should  feel  thankful  that  the  unwel- 
come visitor  stayed  away  so  long.  We  are  on  a 
globe  of  molten  metal  and  seething  minerals,  and 
as  we  slowly  creep  over  the  thin  crust,  the  marvel 
is  that  things  are  as  pleasant  as  they  are.  A 
shrinking  globe  has  to  bend  and  crinkle  a  little 
now  and  then  where  the  crust  is  tender,  and  the 
rock  layers  are  so  placed  as  to  slip  over  one  an- 
other, and  it  is  unsafe  to  live  in  that  quarter, 
though  the  oranges  are  sweet  there  and  the  air 
balmy  and  perfumed  with  spices.  On  the  whole 
the  old  globe  does  very  well.  It  is  the  best  we 
know  for  the  present,  and  it  provides  a  fairly 
good  home  for  us  now  in  our  extreme  youth.  We 
are  assured  there  is  something  more  substantial 
ahead. 


86  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

We  have  spasms  of  shallowness  when  we  ask 
why  God  does  not  interfere  to  prevent  grievous 
loss.  Why  not  ventilate  Vesuvious  quietly?  Why 
not  shore  up  the  western  edge  of  California  ?  Why 
not  convert  a  tornado  into  a  sweet  and  soothing 
zephyr?  Why  not  change  cyclones  into  lullabies, 
and  thunderbolts  into  auroras?  Why  did  He  not 
at  His  own  expense  repair  the  rotten  timbers  of 
the  General  Slocum,  and  render  fireproof,  with- 
out cost  to  greedy  men,  a  theater  firetrap?  He 
could  do  any  of  these  things  as  easily  as  a  mother 
can  run  into  the  street  and  rescue  her  child  from 
the  swift  automobile. 

He  could  paralyze  the  arm  of  every  assassin, 
pierce  unto  death  every  malignant  microbe,  arrest 
every  tidal  wave,  smother  every  threatening  flame, 
render  every  dangerous  river  slow  and  ropy,  and 
convert  the  world  into  a  state  of  mild  and  inoffen- 
sive monotony.  In  such  a  world  one  would  sym- 
pathize with  Byron's  lines: 

"  With   pleasure    drugged,    he    almost    longed   for 
woe — 
And  e'en   for  change    of    scene    would   seek   the 
shades  below !  " 

Without  danger  and  possible  disaster  watch- 
fulness would  cease,  struggle  die  into  sloth,  in- 
ventive genius  sleep,  zeal  for  attainment  fade 
away.  Laziness  is  a  vice  of  the  uncivilized;  men 
are  awakened  to  effort  by  fears,  storms,  disap- 
pointments.   Mankind  has  to  be  exploded,  burned, 


EARTHQUAKES  AND  GOD  8T 

crushed  into  progress.  God  might  have  made  us 
all  after  the  fashion  of  Coleridge's  "Painted  ship 
upon  a  painted  ocean,"  but  He  preferred  men  who 
can  move  and  He  knows  how  to  keep  us  moving. 

A  few  years  ago  the  railroads  were  told  that 
chey  ought  to  put  on  the  Westinghouse  brake  and 
Miller  platform,  and  directors  shrugged  their 
portly  shoulders.  What  are  a  few  deaths  a  month 
compared  with  fat  dividends!  But  when  the  Re- 
vere horror  sent  scores  of  valuable  lives  along 
the  way  of  dusky  death  and  nearly  ruined  the 
Eastern  Railroad,  changes  were  made  which  save 
lives  and  property. 

Physicians  may  fill  the  magazines  with  articles 
on  sanitary  drainage,  and  mayors  and  aldermen 
will  call  them  "scientific  fools,"  until  cholera  or 
typhoid  appears ;  then  trenches  are  opened,  pipes 
laid,  and  the  "fool's"  statue  is  placed  in  the  heart 
of  the  city.  Terror  is  needed  to  startle  the  selfish 
and  the  sluggish.  Disaster  calls  forth  from  ashes 
a  better  Boston,  Chicago,  Baltimore,  San  Fran- 
cisco. 

Science,  art,  reform,  manhood,  are  forced  on- 
ward by  pain  and  fear.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  colo- 
nists would  have  conquered  Britain  had  not  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half  of  Indian  wars  trained  them.  Na- 
ture is  a  stern  but  effective  teacher.  Fear  crushes 
many  and  calls  out  resolution  in  those  who  win. 
Pain  tortures,  and  at  length  chloroform  and  ether 
appear.  Charity  and  mildness  pauperize ;  trial 
and  hardship  stiffen  the  will.     Says  an  ancient 


88  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

writer,  "When  a  difficulty  falls  upon  you,  remem- 
ber that  God,  like  a  trainer  of  wrestlers,  has 
matched  you  with  a  rough  man  that  you  may  be- 
come an  Olympic  conqueror.  But  it  is  not  accom- 
plished without  sweat." 

Disaster  challenges  our  motives  and  tests  our 
character.  A  sudden  calamity  calls  on  the  busi- 
ness world  to  halt  in  its  swift  career  of  trade  and 
ambition.  Questions  rise  which  must  be  faced. 
Who  are  we?  What  is  life?  In  what  does  our 
well-being  consist? 

Our  small  minds  have  scant  space  for  ideas  of 
God  and  man  through  centuries,  milleniums.  The 
goal  is  far  away.  In  his  poem  on  the  destruction 
of  Lisbon,  Voltaire  gives  the  conclusion  of  reli- 
gion thus: 

"  All  will  one  day  be  well,  we  fondly  hope: 
All  that  is  well  to-day  is  but  the  dream 
Of  erring  men,  however  wise  they  seem, 
And  God  alone  is  right." 

It  is  unfair,  childish,  to  judge  of  a  work  be- 
fore it  is  complete.  Our  wisest  teacher  assures 
us  that  the  enthronement  of  character  through 
testing  is  the  goal  of  this  stormy  period.  We 
catch  glimpses  of  the  coronation  in  the  heroism, 
charity,  brotherliness,  which  in  a  naughty  world 
shine  out  against  a  dark  background  of  anguish. 
The  call  to  kindness,  sympathy,  skill,  courage, 
patience,  and  self-sacrifice,  rings  through  a  world 
of  need  and  torture.  A  world  with  no  fevers, 
shipwrecks,   earthquakes,   would  lull  and  soothe, 


EARTHQUAKES  AND  GOD  89 

but  there  would  be  no  Florence  Nightingales,  or 
Grace  Darlings,  or  Clara  Bartons. 

This  gold-enraptured  age  may  need  the  rebuke 
of  the  keen  upward  inflection  to  send  haughty 
criminals  like  stricken  serpents  to  die  of  shame, 
and  of  the  loud  voice  of  God  in  volcano  and  earth- 
quake bidding  it  pause  and  consider.  Were  this 
world  all  and  anything  less  than  an  immortal 
character  the  goal,  our  faith  were  sometimes  in 
sore  straits,  but  if  death  from  a  falling  wall  opens 
a  gateway  into  a  richer  life,  there  is  little  to 
choose  between  such  an  exit  and  the  stifling  of 
pneumonia.  The  problem  rests  easier  in  our 
thoughts  as  we  think  of  the  eternal  years.  The 
question,  How  is  disaster  related  to  Providence, — 
will  long  puzzle  the  narrow  minds  of  men.  Ap- 
parent inequalities,  excessive  hardships,  biting 
winds,  the  very  stars  raining  calamity,  the  earth 
rising  to  destroy,  the  ocean  lifting  up  its  billows, 
unspeakable  agony,  unutterable  sorrow,  dim  our 
eyes,  so  that  we  fail  to  see  the  deeper  truth,  or 
gain  a  glimpse  of  the  wider  view.  But  they  whose 
lives  are  smooth  and  sheltered  are  apt  to  be  rather 
trying,  and  sorest  hearts  are  often  fullest  of 
praise. 

Happy  are  they  who  learn  somewhere  to  hasten 
for  refuge  to  the  hope  set  before  them.  Fifty 
years  ago,  the  Pemberton  mill  in  Lawrence  fell, 
and  the  factory  girls,  pinned  in  by  timbers,  found 
themselves  cut  off  by  flames  from  rescue.  Instead 
of  screaming  in  terror,  they  sang,  "Nearer  my 


90  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

God  to  Thee,"  and  smothering  the  crackle  of  the 
blaze  went  heavenward  in  a  chariot  of  fire.  What- 
ever the  storm  or  stress,  if  we  can  believe  that  a 
wise  and  loving  Father  is  over  all,  and  that  He 
must  have  time  in  which  to  perfect  the  characters 
of  beings  such  as  we  are,  we  may  win  peace. 

There  are  days  when  the  intrepid  soul  falters 
where  it  firmly  trod,  but  what  can  we  do  ?  We  are 
here  in  a  world  of  stern  denials,  heart-breaking 
refusals,  sharp  rebuffs.  What  can  we  do?  We 
must  live.  As  men  we  dare  not  break  off  the  game 
ourselves.  We  must  be  true  men.  What  can 
we  do  but 

"  Stretch  lame  hands   of   faith,   and  grope 
And  gather  dust  and  chaff,  and  call 
To  what  we  feel  is  Lord  of  all, 
And  faintly  trust  the  larger  hope." 

Some  of  us  can  do  better,  and  "march  breast  for- 
ward." All  of  us  may  abide  in  the  kingdom  which 
cannot  be  shaken. 

In  the  "Legend  of  Jubal"  we  are  told  of  old, 
sweet,  pleasant  days  before  men  knew  death.  They 
played,  danced,  and  sang  in  a  life  without  serious- 
ness or  greatness.  But  after  sorrow  came,  friends 
and  families  lived  in  a  tender  light,  earth 
seemed  lovelier  when  they  knew  they  were  soon 
to  leave  it,  the  idea  of  death  which  was  soon  to 
claim  them,  bade  them  live  in  earnest,  and  tragedy 
and  sorrow  led  to  depth,  heroism,  and  faith  un- 
known before. 


IX 

THE  USE  OF  THE  REMAINDERS 

In  nothing  else  are  we  more  extravagant  than 
in  our  use  of  the  remainders ;  odds  and  ends,  rem- 
nants, broken  lots, — we  sell  them  for  a  song,  fifty 
cents  on  a  dollar ;  throw  them  on  a  counter  for  a 
bargain  sale.     Well  enough  in  a  store,  but  folly 
in  the  use  of  the  fag  ends  of  better  times,  fortune, 
health  and  courage.    At  Poitiers  the  Black  Prince 
with    his     ragged,    famished,    weary    fragment, 
hemmed  in  by  a  full-fed  enemy  five  times  larger, 
turned  defeat  to  victory.     William    of    Orange 
won  success  for  the  Netherlands  because  through 
three-fourths  of  his  career  he  knew  how  to  handle 
the   remainder.      At   Marston  Moor   the   Parlia- 
mentary troops  were  broken.     But  look!  yonder 
are  Cromwell  and  Fairfax    with    the    Ironsides 
calmly  singing  a  Psalm.     The  remnant  swept  the 
field.    At  Waterloo  the  allies  were  beaten  at  first. 
Wellington  said  to  Crevy  at  Brussels  after  the 
fight :  "It  has  been  the  nearest  run  thing  you  ever 
saw  in  your  life.     Blucher  lost  fourteen  thousand 
men  Friday  night,  and  got  so  licked  I  could  not 
find  him  in  the  morning."     But  the  remainder — 
The  grippe  strikes  you  hard;  a  remnant  from 
coal-tar  slays  the  microbe.     Cotton  seed  was  once 
a  wasted  remainder,  now  it  sells  for  millions.  Tons 
of  hornblende  are  crushed  to  find  a  piece  of  radium 
91 


92  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

you  can  push  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  but 
that  bit  of  energy  revolutionizes  science.  The 
margin  crowns  the  winner.  The  runner  who  can 
fling  fresh  courage  into  the  final  spurt,  the  orator 
who  can  marshal  new  resources,  the  physician 
with  another  remedy,  the  lawyer  with  another 
proof,  gain  the  day.  Said  Webster,  "Go  as  deep 
as  you  will,  you  will  always  find  that  Jeremiah 
Mason  is  below  you." 

Happy  is  the  man  who  forbids  the  fiercest 
stcrm  to  destroy  the  remainder  of  his  courage. 
Here  is  a  man  with  fortune  down,  eating  a  crust 
and  a  cold  potato  from  a  tin  plate,  but  there  is  a 
smile  on  his  face.  "What  are  you  thinking  of,  my 
cheerful  friend?"  "Of  the  time  when  I  shall  dine 
on  turkey  from  a  Haviland."  The  turkey  may 
linger  in  cold  storage  for  years,  and  the  quails 
fly  in  joyous  freedom,  but  he  has  something  finer 
than  they, — a  brave,  unconquerable  spirit. 

You  have  lost  your  health;  you  are  nervous, 
sleepless,  haunted  by  fears.  Your  wise  physician 
says,  "Nature  works  towards  recovery.  Twenty- 
five  million  millions  of  red  corpuscles  are  swift 
and  eager  in  artery,  nerve,  vein  and  muscle. 
Every  breath  invites  health."  "But  I  cannot 
sleep,"  you  moan,  and  this  wise  physician  smiles 
gently  and  says :  "Do  not  worry  about  that ;  you 
will  not  die  if  you  lose  several  nights  of  sleep. 
Sleep  is  like  a  gentle  dove,  which  flies  away  if  you 
frantically  try  to  clutch  it.  Ask  God  to  help  you 
serve  Him  with  a  quiet  mind,  and  before  you  know 


THE  USE  OF  THE  REMAINDERS      93 

it  the  dove  of  sleep  may  fly  to  your  pillow.  God's 
universe  rallies  to  help  you." 

You  break  an  arm;  a  million  corpuscles  are 
marshalled  to  mend  it.  Typhoid  catches  you ; 
trust  in  God  and  in  your  good  physician;  be 
calm.  It  is  a  part  of  your  life-experience.  There 
will  be  less  fever  if  you  do  not  worry.  If  the  gate 
opens  a  little  earlier  than  you  expected  into  the 
finer  country,  you  will  be  better  off  than  the  rest 
of  us  left  in  dust  or  mud,  chilled  by  bleak  winds, 
tossed  by  fierce  tempests.  A  cottage  in  the  heav- 
enly country  is  better  than  Windsor  Castle. 

You  lose  your  fortune,  every  dollar ;  but  integ- 
rity and  courage  stay  by.  "I  have  made  a  mis- 
take," you  lament.  You  don't  expect  to  be  al- 
ways wise,  do  you?  Perhaps  it  was  not  a  mis- 
take. A  "voyage-letter"  read  in  mid-ocean  by  a 
father  with  a  genius  for  worrying  read  thus, 
"Don't  worry,  father.     Perhaps  it  is  not  so." 

See  that  man,  calm,  strong,  confident;  he  went 
through  stormy  days  and  dreary  nights  and  did 
not  scorn  the  remainder.  Suppose  Frederick  the 
Great  had  lost  his  nerve  or  drawn  the  stopper 
from  that  bottle  of  corrosive  sublimate  at  the 
close  of  the  sixth  campaign  of  the  Seven  Years' 
War.  The  land  was  desolate ;  over  half  a  million 
men  had  perished  in  battle,  misery,  and  ravage. 
Where  were  fresh  men  and  horses  to  come  from? 
His  courage  and  sense  of  duty  did  not  falter,  and 
in  a  little  while  the  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Russia 
died  and  her  nephew,  who  received  the  crown,  was 


94  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ai»  admirer  of  Frederick;  Mr.  Pitt  retired  from 
office;  England  and  France  paired  off;  Turkey 
with  one  hundred  thousand  men  threatened  Aus- 
tria from  the  south.    The  war  was  over. 

Said  a  prisoner,  "Had  I  not  been  arrested  and 
convicted  I  should  today  be  a  hopeless  drunkard; 
now  I  know  Christ  as  my  Savior."  Paul  went  to 
Rome  in  a  tempest,  and  "some  on  planks,  and 
some  on  other  things  from  the  ship,  and  so  it  came 
to  pass  that  they  all  escaped  safe  to  land."  You 
are  having  a  hard  time  amid  business  reverses, 
poverty,  ill-health ;  lift  up  your  head,  cherish  the 
remainders  of  faith  and  courage.  A  stormy  pas- 
sage, but  the  home  port  is  near,  "and  every  wave 
is  charmed."  There  may  be  much  good  in  the 
remainder. 

The  best  of  life  may  be  in  the  remainder.  It 
should  be ;  heavy  winds  mastered ;  follies  of  youth 
past ;  flighty  nerves  steadied ;  hard  lessons 
learned;  we  ought  to  enter  calm  wisdom,  a  tran- 
quil and  collected  mind,  the  majesty  of  an  un- 
daunted spirit.  Life's  choicest  treasure  may  be 
in  the  remainder.  The  fever  and  strain  are  over ; 
many  illusions  have  disappeared,  and  in  their  place 
are  maturity,  steadfastness  and  fortitude.  Not 
only  in  the  last  fragments  of  life,  but  in  the  rem- 
nants which  are  scattered  along  the  way,  do  we 
often  find  our  richest  treasure.  In  seasons  of  re- 
creation; in  resting  hours  amid  the  busy  weeks, 
when  friend  meets  friend ;  when  the  fever  of  busi- 
ness is  hushed;  when  the  mart    of    trade  is  de- 


THE  USE  OF  THE  REMAINDERS      95 

serted,  the  office  closed;  when  mind  plays  freely 
upon  mind;  when  we  seem  to  be  doing  nothing; 
in  quiet  evenings,  vacation  days, — the  best  of  life 
may  be  found  in  these  unassuming  remainders. 

When  busy  with  our  regular  work  we  lay  the 
foundations  and  raise  the  walls,  but  the  design, 
lofty  or  humble,  a  palace  or  a  hovel,  is  found  in 
the  remainder.  We  hasten  hither  and  thither; 
we  struggle  and  toil,  we  joke  and  laugh  and 
achieve,  but  in  the  remnants  we  hear  the  music 
which  nerves  and  cheers  for  victory. 

We  must  not  forget  that  the  remainder  tests 
the  character  most  sharply. 

Not  when  the  bank  account  overflows,  but  when 
poverty  threatens,  do  we  show  most  clearly  what 
we  are  made  of.  Not  when  friends  smile,  when 
trade  is  good,  crops  are  heavy,  but  in  seasons  of 
trial,  disappointment  and  want,  when  panic  smites, 
drought  withers,  stocks  shrink  and  customers  pass 
by,  do  we  show  the  quality  of  our  characters. 

"  When  our  light  is  low, 
When  the  blood  creeps,  and  the  nerves  prick 
And  tingle,  and  the  heart  is  sick, 
And  all  the  wheels  of  being  slow," 

does  the  sharpest  test  come. 

Not  when  we  are  in  the  full  tide  of  victorious 
strength,  not  when  we  are  in  the  blaze  of  noonday 
struggle,  but  in  the  still  hours,  when  the  candle 
burns  dimly,  when  the  tide  ebbs,  when  health  and 
fortune  wane,  friends  scatter,  disappointments 
gather,  sorrows  multiply,  applause  dies  down  and 


96  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

gladness  hides  her  face,  then  in  the  solemn  re- 
mainders we  show  what  manner  of  men  we  are. 

Wealth  is  a  searching  test,  but  when  fire  or 
flood  sweeps  it  away,  the  probe  pierces  deeper. 
When  your  vigor  has  lost  its  note  of  gladness  will 
your  spirit  rise  to  assert  the  supremacy  of  your 
characer?  We  admire  Scott's  genius;  Marmion 
and  Ivanhoe  gleam  with  an  unfading  beauty. 
But  braver  than  the  knight  of  the  nameless  shield 
was  the  spirit  which  used  the  remainder  of  a  ma- 
jestic life  to  pay  a  debt  of  honor,  and  drove  the 
pen  with  feverish  speed  till  the  work  was  done  and 
the  tired  hand  rested  at  last  in  the  coffin. 

There  is  nothing  in  Vicksburg  finer  than 
Grant's  use  of  the  remainder  of  his  life,  when  to 
place  his  family  beyond  want  he  resisted  disease 
inch  by  inch,  with  a  courage  as  fine  as  that  which 
gives  Appomatox  its  lustre.  Lamb's  "Elia"  calls 
forth  our  admiration,  but  admiration  rises  to 
praise  as  we  think  of  him  walking  hand  in  hand 
with  his  sister  as  the  clouds  of  delirium  gathered 
in  her  bewildered  brain. 

George  Herbert,  famous  in  English  pulpit  and 
song,  planned  and  trained  for  a  distinguished  ca- 
reer at  the  court  of  King  James.  The  death  of 
the  king  and  other  friends  blighted  his  prospects ; 
he  went  into  retirement  for  a  little  at  Kent,  gath- 
ered together  his  energies  for  a  fresh  endeavor, 
and  came  forth  to  make  the  remainder  rich  and 
fruitful.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  in  the 
proud  annals  of    England    a  more    commanding 


THE  USE  OF  THE  REMAINDERS       97 

genius  than  Richard  Hooker.  An  unhappy  mar- 
riage made  a  retired  parish  grateful,  but  the  re- 
mainder was  more  enduring  than  the  splendors  of 
Canterbury,  as  he  wrote  of  law  "whose  seat  is 
the  bosom  of  God,  and  her  voice  the  harmony  of 
the  world.  All  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  her 
homage, — the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care,  and 
the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her  power." 

John  Milton,  poet  and  trumpet  of  the  Puritans, 
when  told  by  his  physician  that  if  he  persisted  in 
writing  he  would  lose  the  use  of  the  remaining 
eye,  believing  that  his  country  needed  his  pen, 
did  not  flinch  for  a  moment  and  passed  into  utter 
blindness.  A  vigorous  man  told  me  some  time  ago 
that  almost  a  generation  ago  four  doctors  told 
him  he  could  only  live  a  few  months ;  only  one  of 
those  doctors  is  now  alive.  He  faced  the  remain- 
der and  won. 

We  seldom  know  enough  to  be  able  to  say  that 
the  case  is  hopeless  provided  there  is  a  powerful 
will.     Whoever  has  that  is 

"  Patient  in  toil,  serene  amidst  alarms; 
Inflexible  in  faith;  inflexible  in  arms." 

We  are  here  to  play  the  game  to  the  finish,  to  find 
the  treasure  in  every  part  of  life,  and  to  use  it, 
man-fashion.  How  painful  the  reflection  as  we 
look  back  on  our  life-work  in  retrospect !  How 
good  to  think  that  the  fragment  that  remains 
may  be  like  the  boy's  loaves  and  fishes.  "It's 
maest  o't  tinsel  wark,"  said    a    village    critic    of 


98  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

Brown  of  Haddington's  early  sermons.  Later 
he  said  "It's  a'  gowd  noo."  Whatever  the  past, 
the  richest  jewel  of  the  whole  life  may  be  found  in 
the  remainder  if  we  have  grace  to  find  it. 


X 

THE  LATER  YEARS 

It  is  singular  that  the  one  business  for  which 
we  have  the  longest  and  most  insistent  training, 
about  which  we  are  lectured  at,  preached  to,  and 
exhorted  with  a  monotony  untiring,  should  be  so 
poorly  done.  We  have  heard  from  many  quar- 
ters that  many  of  us  who  are  getting  near  the 
evening  are  almost  as  trying  as  those  in  callow 
youth.  We  read  with  fear  and  trembling  Ste- 
venson's keen  arraignment  of  "crabbed  age,"  in 
which  we  tend  to  become  cowardly,  niggardly  and 
suspicious.  Holmes  is  scarcely  less  severe  when 
he  compares  oldish  people  with  pears  over-ripe, — 
mellow,  sweetish,  insipid. 

The  fact  that  one's  character  is  well-established 
and  one's  integrity  admired  for  years  does  not 
guarantee  fidelity  to  the  end.  An  undergrowth 
of  selfishness  may  trip  him  yet.  He  has  been  in 
the  straight  and  narrow  path  so  long  that  he  may 
come  unconsciously  to  think  that  he  can  go  alone ; 
hence  he  ceases  to  watch  and  pray.  Moses  was 
elderly  when  he  spoke  unadvisedly  with  his  lips ; 
David  was  no  longer  a  youth  when  he  fell  into 
grievous  sin ;  and  Asa  must  have  been  in  the  six- 
ties when  he  led  Israel  to  her  first  foreign  alliance 
and  with  gold  from  palace  and  temple  bought  the 
friendship  of  Ben-hadad;  and  when  the  prophet 

99 


100  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

rebuked  him  for  his  lack  of  faith  and  courage  the 
king  shut  up  the  daring  censor  in  prison.  Court 
records  contain  many  names  of  oldish  rascals  who 
had  kept  outwardly  straight  for  half  a  century. 

Then  there  is  a  world  of  petty  sins, — habits 
of  speech  and  conduct  that  do  not  send  men  to  the 
penitentiary,  but  threaten  to  send  those  who  have 
to  live  with  them  to  the  insane  asylum, — which 
the  later  years  bring  out  in  beautiful  profusion, 
such  as  ill-temper,  fretfulness,  worry,  sharp-deal- 
ing, cynicism,  uncharity,  niggardliness.  Were 
some  things  said  before  marriage  which  are  said 
in  the  later  years,  many  a  man  would  pause  on  the 
edge  of  the  precipice,  many  a  woman  would  re- 
spond to  the  momentous  question,  "Thank  you, 
I'll  try  a  little  longer  the  fortunes  of  single 
blessedness."  A  jaded  couple  were  going  along, 
the  street  one  hot  day  in  July.  They  were  evi- 
dently on  the  shady  side  of  fifty,  and  the  man  said 
to  the  woman,  "Oh  you  are  always  fussing  and 
stewing!"  Few  would  guess  that  they  were  in 
their  honey-moon. 

Patience  is  a  jewel  partly  because  it  is  rare,  and 
it  does  not  always  increase  in  brilliancy  in  the 
later  years.  How  easy  to  let  the  temper  grow 
disagreeable,  the  disposition  sour,  the  tongue 
sharp,  when  one  is  beyond  sixty;  to  exchange 
youthful  rashness  for  elderly  peevishness,  early 
extravagance  for  late  parsimony,  juvenile  fresh- 
ness for  ancient  acidity.  A  child  in  a  passion  is 
not  especially  beautiful,  but  he  is  an  angel  com- 


THE  LATER  YEARS  101 

pared  to  an  old  man  in  a  fit  of  ill  temper.  A  pet- 
tish girl  is  a  trial,  but  a  fretful  old  lady  is  an  ava- 
lanche of  discomfort.  A  saucy  boy  may  be  a 
jewel  in  the  rough,  but  a  cross-grained  old  fellow 
is  a  dispensation  of  woe.  There  is  hope  that  the 
coltish  fury  of  a  youth  may  be  curbed  and  a 
steady  family  steed  appear,  but  an  oldish  chap 
prancing  foolishly  about  like  a  spoiled  child 
makes  angels  weep.  Said  an  old  lady,  "Any  one 
past  seventy  should  no  longer  be  the  target  for 
criticism."  The  remark  has  a  value,  but  it  were 
better  not  to  reckon  too  much  on  the  immunity. 
Elderly  people  are  sometimes  tempted  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  they  are  privileged  to  say  or  do 
what  they  please :  their  reputation  is  firmly  estab- 
lished, either  as  so  well-to-do  as  to  be  above  criti- 
cism, or  as  so  poor  and  unfortunate  as  to  be  be- 
neath it,  and  they  are  not  always  charming  com- 
panions. They  may  be  brusque  to  rudeness,  plain- 
spoken  to  impoliteness,  cautious  to  a  chronic 
opposition  to  everything  they  do  not  initiate.  It 
was  an  oldish  man  whose  favorite  form  of  church 
work  was  to  raise  an  objection.  The  older 
brother  in  the  famous  parable  did  not  repent  of 
his  ill-temper,  and  no  doubt  there  were  days  when 
the  younger  son  longed  for  the  grunting  of  the 
pigs. 

One  reason  for  this  dismal  state  of  things  is 
that  after  the  flush  of  youth  is  over  and  the 
sturdy  vigor  of  middle  life  is  spent,  failing 
strength    exposes    one    to    germs    of    selfishness 


102  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

against  which  he  had  been  immune  before.  There 
is  less  power  to  resist  the  malaria  of  fault-finding 
and  petty  complaining.  Nerve-fiber  seems  plen- 
tier  and  nearer  the  surface.  A  person  who  never 
knew  that  he  had  any  nerves,  now  calls  his  asso- 
ciates to  witness  that  he  has  nothing  else.  Sleep 
is  lighter;  buoyancy  is  on  the  wane;  the  world 
has  lost  the  flush  of  heaven  which  lies  about  us  in 
our  infancy,  and  the  glorious  battlements  which 
ought  to  cast  a  light  on  eager  faces  are  hidden 
behind  a  fog-bank  of  worry.  Zeal  and  enthusi- 
asm have  died  down;  disappointments  have 
frightened  away  our  ideals,  conscience  has  lost  its 
snap,  integrity  is  frayed  at  the  edges,  good  tem- 
per is  worn  threadbare,  and  we  who  once  were 
sunny  optimists  do  well  if  we  keep  ourselves  a 
part  of  the  time  in  the  class  of  cheerful  pessi- 
mists. 

A  prince  amid  these  rulers  of  darkness  among 
the  elderly  is  ill-temper.  Nothing  is  more  dan- 
gerous or  more  common.  It  does  not  waste 
money,  break  banks,  tread  down  chastity,  or  carry 
one  reeling  down  the  street  but  who  shall  say  it 
is  not  as  evil  as  profanity  or  petty  larceny?  It 
converts  many  a  happy  home  into  a  premature 
purgatory.  There  is  a  menagerie  of  wild  ani- 
mals in  ill-temper,  hyenas,  tigers,  serpents, — such 
as  jealousy,  anger,  pride,  cruelty,  bitterness,  un- 
charity,  sulkiness,  touchiness,  doggedness,  self- 
conceit,  envy,  revenge.  How  we  hate  it  when  we 
see  it  in  others !    Many  a  man  who  would  not  lie 


THE  LATER  YEARS  103 

or  swear  is  ill-tempered.  "He  is  a  good  man,  but 
a  little  cross-grained,"  we  say,  and  there  comes  to 
mind  the  drastic  proverb  about  the  dead  flies  in 
the  apothecary's  ointment. 

In  Sir  Nowell  Paton's  paintings  there  is  a  trick 
of  art  by  which  he  enhances  the  effect  of  the  de- 
sign by  contrast.  On  the  corner  of  the  canvas 
which  is  adorned  with  knights,  ladies,  fairies  and 
children,  may  be  seen  a  toad,  lizard,  or  slimy  snail. 
In  ancient  sculpture,  griffins  and  gorgons  grin 
and  threaten  among  faces  of  angels  and  saints 
on  cathedral  walls.  So  in  many  a  home,  other- 
wise as  happy  as  the  fields  of  Paradise,  there 
squats  the  demon  of  ill-temper  ready  with  bitter 
sneer,  the  chilly  sleet  of  frosty  criticism,  the  keen 
word  of  an  Iago,  sharp  as  a  dagger,  to  create  an 
atmosphere  of  gloom  and  depression.  It  is  in  the 
church,  and  a  score  of  prodigals  will  run  away 
from  sour  saintliness. 

It  is  a  solemnizing  thought  that  one  may  be 
sliding  into  these  miserable  ways  without  realiz- 
ing it.  Who  of  us  sees  himself  as  he  is?  He  who 
is  ripening  off  well  does  not  realize  it.  We  exag- 
gerate our  defects  as  much  as  our  friends  do  the 
virtues  which  they  imagine  we  possess.  We  who 
look  at  our  lives  from  the  inside  are  so  painfully 
conscious  of  our  shortcomings  that  what  our  in- 
dulgent friends  call  success  we  call  failure.  Many 
a  noble  soul  is  so  painfully  conscious  of  things  left 
undone  that  he  will  not  admit  to  himself  that  he 
does  anything  worth  doing.     While  this  is  true, 


104  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

while  our  judgment  of  our  condition  is  not  very 
reliable,  it  is  all  we  have,  and  we  are  bound  to  use 
it  as  best  we  may.  Habit  is  so  insidious  and  so 
bewildering,  it  is  so  natural  to  look  for  excuses 
for  our  conduct,  that  before  we  know  it  we  are 
Pharisees,  self-deceived,  self-satisfied,  while  our 
friends  are  saying,  "Poor  old  fellow,  he  does  not 
seem  to  realize  how  disagreeable  he  is." 

There  are  a  few  things  which  ought  to  cheer 
those  who  are  on  the  edge  of  the  evening.  One 
is  that  we  take  our  point  of  view  along  with  us. 
Some  one  asked  a  keen  old  lawyer  how  it  seemed 
to  be  at  his  time  of  life,  "Just  the  same  as  always 
before,  only  there  are  no  old  men."  Who  of  us 
does  not  remember  with  pain  the  first  time  he  was 
given  to  understand  that  he  was  in  the  class  of 
the  elderly.  I  was  walking  one  day  with  a  young 
fellow,  little  dreaming  that  my  forty -five  years 
entitled  me  to  the  dignity  of  the  oldish.  I  said, 
"You  take  a  pretty  lively  gait."  "Yes,  and  you 
walk  pretty  well  for  an  old  gentleman."  We  get 
used  to  the  new  situation  after  a  while.  The  man 
of  eighty-nine  declares  he  does  not  feel  a  minute 
older  than  he  did  when  he  was  eighty. 

The  day  when  one  finds  that  he  is  a  grand- 
father is  a  momentous  date  for  him.  The  world 
is  never  quite  the  same,  for  he  realizes  slowly  that 
another  generation  has  appeared,  and  before  very 
long  he  must  quit  the  stage.  He  gathers  himself 
together  after  a  little,  reflects  that  only  great- 
grandparents  are  really  aged,  but  the  blow  has 
been  given  and  the  scar  remains. 


THE  LATER  YEARS  105 

Another  reflection  is  that  there  is  a  blessing  in 
age  as  well  as  in  youth.  After  one  gets  his  sec- 
ond wind  and  passes  beyond  the  depression  he  ex- 
pected to  find  in  the  later  years,  he  discovers  many 
crumbs  of  comfort  he  never  nibbled  before.  He 
rejoices  that  he  has  got  along  so  far  without  seri- 
ous calamity  or  open  shame,  that  he  has  paid  his 
bills  and  kept  out  of  jail,  that  he  is  no  crazier 
than  his  neighbors,  and  hears  the  wolf  of  famine 
and  distress  only  from  a  distance.  Much  of  the 
fever  and  strain  are  over.  He  has  seen  so  many 
formidable  combinations  dissolve  that  he  begins 
to  hope  that  he  will  get  through  without  down- 
fall. As  Plato  says  in  his  fine  way,  "Certainly 
old  age  has  a  great  sense  of  calm  and  freedom, 
when  the  passions  relax  their  hold  and  you  have 
escaped  from  the  control,  not  of  one  master,  but 
of  many." 

A  wealth  of  experience,  a  steadiness  of  judg- 
ment, a  maturity  of  character,  give  singular 
weight  to  the  later  years.  Browning's  Asolando 
with  its  charge  to  "Greet  the  unseen  with  a  cheer" 
is  the  fruit  of  the  later  years.  Suppose  Titian 
had  thought  that  ninety  was  the  dead  line, — the 
"Battle  of  Lepanto"  would  not  have  been  com- 
pleted at  ninety-eight. 

The  man  of  seventy  cannot  run  as  fast  as  the 
man  of  sixteen,  but  his  opinion  is  worth  more 
when  he  gets  there.  We  owe  a  large  debt  to  Dr. 
Osier  for  telling  us  that  "the  effective,  moving, 
vitalizing  work  of  the  world  is  done  between  the 


106  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ages  of  twenty-five  and  forty,"  because  he  stimu- 
lated an  inquiry  which  has  led  us  to  see  that  it 
is  not  so.  The  great  doctor  was  stirring  up  young 
men  to  hard  work  and  he  hit  us  older  fellows 
harder  than  he  intended,  but  good  has  come  out 
of  the  discussion.  There  never  was  a  time  when 
the  older  men  were  sought  more  eagerly  in  impor- 
tant churches  than  today;  the  older  lawyers  and 
doctors  are  not  laid  on  the  shelf,  provided  they 
keep  their  courage  and  chloroform  the  hook- 
worm. Dr.  Dorland  studied  the  careers  of  four 
hundred  famous  men  and  summed  up  the  result 
thus,  "Provided  that  health  and  optimism  remain, 
the  man  of  fifty  can  command  success  as  readily 
as  the  man  of  thirty." 

Only  three  Presidents  of  the  United  States 
were  under  fifty  when  inaugurated ;  most  of  them 
had  passed  their  sixtieth  birthday.  Bismark  cre- 
ated the  German  Empire  at  fifty-six,  and  ar- 
ranged the  Triple  Alliance  at  seventy-one.  Von 
Molkte  was  past  seventy  at  the  time  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  war.  Thiers  saved  the  French  Republic 
at  seventy-seven,  and  Gladstone  was  once  more 
Prime  Minister  at  eighty-three.  It  is  good  to  be 
in  such  company  as  we  approach  evening. 

When  Numa  was  offered  the  crown  he  said: 
"Every  change  of  human  life  has  its  dangers.  I 
have  drawn  others  to  the  worship  of  the  gods,  to 
mutual  offices  of  friendship,  and  to  spend  the  rest 
of  their  time  in  tilling  the  ground  and  in  feeding 
cattle."     It  was  not  easy  to  persuade  him  to  fore- 


THE  LATER  YEARS  107 

go  the  pleasures  of  rustic  life.  Numa  has  few 
successors  in  modern  days,  but  the  wisdom  of  his 
words  will  not  pass. 

The  later  years  have  their  own  wealth  and  op- 
portunity for  calm  thoughts,  the  simple  joys  of 
friendship  and  peace  of  mind,  and  throwing  the 
riches  of  experience  into  younger  lives.  We  cer- 
tainly find  some  of  the  value  of  the  later  years  if 
we  gain  a  gentleness  of  spirit  and  the  poise  which 
comes  to  those  who  see  life  in  its  larger,  deeper 
bearings.  We  may  not  go  so  far  as  did  Edmund 
Burke,  who  said  when  his  son  Richard  died,  "I 
greatly  deceive  myself,  if  in  this  hard  season  I 
would  give  a  peck  of  refuse  wheat  for  all  that  is 
called  fame  and  honor  in  the  world,"  but  we 
would  like  to  win  a  poise,  a  breadth,  a  dignity 
unabashed.  We  would  like  to  pass  into  that 
period  which  is  so  close  to  some  of  us  after  the 
noble  fashion  of  old  Thomas  Newcome:  "At  the 
usual  evening  hour  the  chapel  bell  began  to  toll, 
and  Thomas  Newcome's  hands  outside  the  bed 
feebly  beat  time ;  and  just  as  the  last  bell  struck, 
a  peculiar,  sweet  smile  shone  on  his  face  and  he 
lifted  up  his  head  a  little  and  quietly  said,  'Ad- 
sum,'  and  fell  back.  It  was  the  word  we  used  at 
school  when  names  were  called:  and  lo,  he  whose 
heart  was  as  that  of  a  little  child  had  answered 
to  his  name  and  stood  in  the  presence  of  his 
Master." 


XI 
THE  UNREMEMBERED 

No  one  else  has  a  better  opportunity  than  the 
country  parson  to  see  and  appreciate  the  quiet, 
modest  people  who,  without  any  parade  take  their 
places  and  do  the  indispensable  things.  It  is  these 
who,  by  their  faithfulness  and  straightforward 
loyalty  to  duty,  give  weight  and  substance  to 
church  and  state.  "The  backbone  of  the  army  is 
the  non-commissioned  man."  Mr.  Lincoln  said 
God  must  think  a  good  deal  of  common  people, 
He  made  so  many  of  them.  It  is  these  "who  do 
great  things  unconscious  they  are  great." 

As  we  look  back  through  our  New  England  his- 
tory how  seldom  we  think  of  the  thousands  who 
made  up  the  rank  and  file  of  the  armies,  who 
stood  on  guard  while  officers  slept,  whose  marches 
were  long  and  wearisome,  who  handled  flintlock 
and  Winchester  with  an  accuracy  gained  in  for- 
ests and  cornfields.  Few  gained  the  chair  of  pro- 
fessor, legislator  or  judge,  but  the  men  knew 
how  to  milk  a  cow,  swing  axe  and  scythe,  wield 
rake  and  hoe,  raise  corn,  rye,  oats  and  beans,  and 
how  to  face  death  with  unflinching  courage.  They 
were  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  land.  When  Bos- 
ton was  beleaguered,  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut 
sent  its  treasures  of  grain  to  suffering  fellow-pa- 
triots with  a  ringing  word  of  courage,  and  when 

108 


THE  UNREMEMBERED  109 

the  call  came  for  soldiers  the  farmers  did  not  hesi- 
tate. 

Only  a  few  men  stand  out  in  clear  and  brilliant 
outline  on  the  page  of  history ;  it  was  the  many 
lowly  and  persistent  souls  who  cut  down  trees, 
made  roads,  followed  the  plough,  cast  votes  in  the 
plain  town  meeting,  built  home,  church  and  school- 
house,  and  in  simple  faith  and  unassuming  ways 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  republic.  Ceaseless 
honor  to  the  self-denying,  resolute,  courageous 
men  who  in  cold  and  heat,  darkness  and  light, 
pain,  storm  and  disappointment,  fought  the  good 
fight  and  finished  their  course !  Without  them, 
the  Hookers,  Shermans,  Davenports  and  Putnams 
were  a  swift  and  fleeting  dream. 

How  scant  the  record  of  the  toils  and  triumphs 
of  the  years !  A  few  names  are  indelible,  the  rest 
soon  fade  away.  Every  school  boy  knows  of  the 
Boston  "Tea-party,"  but  Connecticut  was  as  clear 
and  strong  on  the  question  of  taxation  as  was 
Massachusetts,  though  less  dramatic  in  method. 
In  1765  the  patriots  about  Hartford  learned  that 
Jared  Ingersoll,  stamp-collector  for  the  Crown, 
was  coming  up  river.  Arrangements  were  made 
for  several  hundred  men  to  meet  him  a  few  miles 
below  Wethersfield  and  conduct  him  to  the  old 
tavern  on  Broad  Street,  Wethersfield,  where  he 
was  compelled  to  resign  his  office.  He  was  then 
conducted  to  Hartford,  where  he  was  obliged  to 
read  his  resignation  in  front  of  the  government 
building.     On  the  back  of  his  white  horse  as  he 


110  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

ambled  pensively  along,  Jared  evidently  did  some 
thinking,  for  when  he  was  asked  afterward  how 
he  felt  with  his  mounted  escort  of  gleeful  patriots, 
he  said,  "I  never  before  understood  the  meaning 
of  that  passage  in  the  Revelation  which  speaks  of 
'Death  on  a  pale  horse  with  Hell  following 
after.'  " 

We  hear  much  of  La  Fayette  and  Rochambeau, 
but  quite  as  important  was  the  work  of  Baron 
Steuben,  a  soldier  of  Frederick  the  Great, 
through  the  Seven  Years'  War.  He  was  per- 
suaded to  come  to  America  in  1777,  and  the  next 
year  was  appointed  major-general  and  inspector- 
general  of  the  army.  He  changed  the  mob 
of  keen  and  energetic  but  unorganized  men 
into  a  disciplined  force  after  the  models  of  the 
great  Frederick,  whose  aide  he  had  been.  He 
taught  the  men  the  use  of  the  bayonet  and  ar- 
ranged an  efficient  staff. 

How  came  we  to  gain  the  invaluable  services 
of  this  man?  In  the  autumn  of  1775  the  proposi- 
tion was  discussed  in  Congress  of  sending  a  man 
of  energy  and  business  capacity  to  France  to 
secure  foreign  sympathy  and  aid.  There  was  one 
man  in  Congress  singularly  fitted  for  this  daring 
and  strategic  advance.  Naturally  the  man  who 
advocated  it  most  confidently  was  the  man  to  be 
sent  by  the  committee,  of  which  Franklin  and 
Morris  were  members ;  he  was  a  country  store- 
keeper, Silas  Deane  of  Wethersfield.  He  con- 
tracted for  military  supplies  which  reached  this 


THE  UNREMEMBERED  111 

country  in  time  for  Saratoga,  and  arranged  with 
Steuben,  Lafayette,  and  DeKalb  to  enlist  in  the 
American  cause.  By  a  strange  fatality  a  cloud 
passed  over  this  able  and  skilful  diplomat,  this 
true  and  unselfish  patriot.  There  have  been  many 
who  have  whipped  on  the  nimble  lies  which  his 
enemies  told  about  him,  which  plunged  him  into 
poverty  and  obscurity.  The  day  has  not  dawned 
for  the  fulfilment  of  Robert  Morris's  prophecy  of 
the  universal  acknowledgment  of  his  merit.  It  is 
one  of  the  ironies  of  history  that  this  man,  who 
deserves  a  place  with  Franklin  and  Washington, 
should  rest  in  an  unmarked  grave  in  a  little  grave- 
yard on  the  coast  of  England. 

And  what  shall  be  said  of  the  women?  We 
read  little  of  them  in  the  histories,  but  since  that 
day  in  the  autumn  in  1636  when  agile  Rachel 
Stiles  pushed  ahead  of  clumsy  men  discussing 
precedence  and  was  the  first  to  reach  the  shore  and 
plant  her  foot  on  the  soil  of  Windsor,  women  have 
had  a  large  share  in  the  struggle  with  the  wolves, 
bears,  Indians,  hardships  and  trials  of  New  Eng- 
land. When  brave  men  shouldered  their  muskets 
or  rifles  and  went  against  the  Dutch,  Narragan- 
setts,  British,  and  rebels,  who  were  more  daunt- 
less than  the  mothers,  wives  and  sisters,  who  with 
sad  hearts  and  intrepid  faces,  spun  the  yarn, 
wove  the  cloth,  and  made  the  butternut  coat,  filled 
the  knapsack,  and  with  a  kiss  and  a  trembling, 
thrilling  word,  sent  those  men  of  nerve  on  their 
way  of  duty  and   death?     It  was    harder,  it  re- 


112  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

quired  more  patience  and  fortitude,  to  hold  fast 
to  faith  and  hope  in  the  lonely  home,  through 
long,  tiresome  days  and  longer,  restless  nights, 
than  to  go  out  on  an  expedition  which  demanded 
grit  and  heroism,  but  it  was  the  lot  of  the  women 
to  stay  at  home,  take  care  of  children  and  farm, 
pray  to  the  God  of  battles,  and  send  messages  of 
strength  and  courage  to  the  brave  defenders. 

They  did  stay,  they  made  bread,  washed  dishes, 
tried  out  lard,  made  soap,  salted  down  beef  and 
pork,  converted  crabbed  apples  and  golden  pump- 
kins into  glorious  pies  for  the  young  patriots 
around  the  table.  How  steadily  worked  the  old, 
creaking  loom!  How  swiftly  flew  the  spinning- 
wheel  !  They  milked  the  cows,  fed  the  pigs,  coaxed 
the  coy  pullets  to  lay,  and,  with  a  sharp  eye  for 
wolf  and  Indian,  planted  the  garden  and  helped 
get  in  the  hay.  When  voices  grew  harsh  and  tem- 
pestuous, who  could  make  peace  like  a  woman? 
Who  could  so  wisely  deal  with  the  stormy  delirium 
of  adolescence!  The  benighted  creatures  had  not 
heard  of  the  modern  methods ;  the  only  use  they 
had  for  a  club  was  to  knock  over  a  bear  with. 
They  were  quite  as  likely  to  use  the  imperative 
as  the  subjective  mood  even  if  thy  did  joggle  the 
nerve-cells  a  little  too  severely,  but  they  knew  how 
to  do  the  work.  Who  drilled  the  Catechism  into 
the  children  and  made  Connecticut  the  birthplace 
of  clockmakers  and  theologians?  What  a  roll, 
the  two  Edwardses,  Hopkins,  Bellamy,  Beecher 
and  Seth  Thomas ! 


THE  UNREMEMBERED  113 

These  clear-sighted  women  found  time  to  give 
a  touch  of  beauty    to    the    humble    home;  they 
trained  the  sweet  honeysuckle  about  the  door,  they 
planted  the  brilliant  hollyhock.     First  and  last 
in   loving   and   thoughtful   service   were   women, 
whose   pleasant  voices   mingled  with  the  rumble 
and  roar  of  fathers  and  brothers  and  lifted  old 
Antioch  to  the  rafters,  while  with  glancing  eyes 
they  wooed  bashful  youths  toward  Heaven.   When 
the  saints  sat  in  the  zero  meeting  houses  and  swal- 
lowed frozen  chunks    of    theology    or  patiently 
watched  "ninthly"  and  "tenthly"  pour  forth  from 
the  lips   of  the    parson  in    frosty  outline,    who 
helped  the  tithingman  quiet  restive  children  and 
awakened  the  husband  who  was  freezing  to  death  ? 
Whose   flying  fingers  knit   the   many   stockings, 
mittens  and  mufflers,  and  made  the  coats  which  an 
old-fashioned  winter  could  not  penetrate?     Who 
fed  the  minister  in  his  pastoral  round  and  cheered 
his  drooping  spirits  with  a  good,  square  meal? 

Then  the  sewing  circle!  The  tongue  of  an 
angel  were  needed  to  sing  its  praises.  Woman 
was  the  queen  in  that  kingdom  of  work  and  recre- 
ation. It  was  newspaper,  theater,  club,  lyceum, 
business  exchange,  market-place,  all  in  one.  It 
relieved  the  monotony  of  a  hard  grind,  scattered 
the  blues,  promoted  sociability  and  made  matches. 
How  could  the  church  have  existed  or  theology 
have  sifted  into  people's  minds,  or  the  paths 
toward  freedom  and  reform  been  opened  without 
it?    When  the  meeting  house  needed  shingling,  or 


114  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

the  question  of  displacing  footstoves  with  larger 
gear  is  up,  when  a  carpet  or  an  organ  must  be 
secured,  the  modern  Paul  thinks  instinctively  of 
the  modern  Persis,  and  the  inventive  Dorcas. 
When  hymnbooks  are  required  for  the  vestry,  or 
the  parish  expenses  overlap  the  income,  the 
shrewd  Prisca  will  find  some  way  to  pry  open 
Aquila's  pocketbook  with  a  beanpod  or  an  oyster- 
shell.  Fair  is  chicken  pie,  rich  and  fragrant  are 
baked  beans,  magical  is  pumpkin  pie,  pleasant  as 
manna  are  jelly  and  doughnuts.  We  have  heard 
of  a  church  built  of  onions,  and  in  the  good  old 
days  the  women  did  most  of  the  weeding  amid 
the  fragrant  bulbs.  Many  a  chapel  has  been 
decorated  with  scalloped  oysters  and  pink  tea. 
People  must  have  recreation,  and  before  the  gen- 
tle game  of  football  was  invented,  there  were 
huskings.  But  what  were  they  without  pretty 
girls,  and  what  were  a  red  ear  without  a  pair  of 
ruby  lips  to  match  it? 

Good  cheer,  courage,  faith,  and  love  spring  up 
in  the  footsteps  of  the  unremembered  women. 
Rare  is  the  life  sublime,  uninspired  by  a  good 
woman.  We  celebrate  the  famous  prayer-meet- 
ing at  the  haystack,  but  who  taught  those  college 
boys  to  pray?  Rich  and  varied  is  the  story  of 
the  unremembered. 


XII 
OPTIMISM,  THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS 

Varied  and  unremitting  is  the  task  of  the  min- 
ister. He  is  teacher  and  promoter  in  religion, 
which  is  at  the  heart  of  everything  in  the  world, 
and  lays  hold  of  things  in  heaven  and  earth  not 
dreamed  of  in  our  philosophy.  Emerging  from 
the  seminary  he  is  expected  to  be  conservative 
with  the  conservatives,  liberal  with  the  liberals, 
wise  with  the  wise  and  a  sympathetic  friend  of  the 
foolish.  He  must  hold  firmly  the  truths  of  a  de- 
cadent theology  and  keep  an  eye  on  the  eastern 
sky  for  the  dawning  of  a  new  day.  He  must  dis- 
cover the  good  in  Calvin,  Servetus  and  Mother 
Eddy.  He  should  be  scientific,  artistic,  poetic, 
practical.  He  must  be  able  to  make  the  nimble 
dollar  go  as  far  as  the  dollar  of  the  fathers,  yet 
he  cannot  afford  to  seem  close.  He  must  be  able 
to  speak  well  on  any  subject,  on  any  occasion,  at 
a  moment's  notice,  whether  he  be  struck  with 
grip,  toothache,  blues  or  poverty.  He  must  keep 
up  his  classics,  be  familiar  with  the  latest  book, 
and  infallible  in  his  knowledge  of  the  pedigree  of 
Cain's  wife.  With  tastes  educated  to  the  tune  of 
two  thousand  dollars  a  year,  he  must  be  a  model 
of  sweet  and  angelic  contentment  on  one-half  that 
sum. 

His  skill  in  selecting  a  companion  in  his  home 

115 


116  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

must  outrival  the  wise  man  in  Moore's  Utopia,  for 
she  must  out-housekeep  the  housekeepers,  out- 
pray  the  other  saintly  women  of  the  church,  out- 
sew  the  sewing  society,  out-train  the  teachers,  and 
out-club  the  clubbists. 

The  parson  must  know  the  latest  science,  be  in- 
telligent upon  the  President's  latest  scheme  for 
muzzling  the  trusts,  and  see  the  wisdom  concealed 
in  the  latest  fad.  He  must  lead  the  wandering 
sheep  back  to  the  fold,  pilot  distressed  mariners 
on  a  sea  of  trouble  to  the  desired  haven,  get  the 
calf  fatted  for  the  prodigal,  reduce  the  cantank- 
erousness  of  the  elder  brother,  and  set  everybody 
at  work.  He  must  keep  up  the  Sunday  School, 
fill  the  prayer  meeting  with  devout  and  earnest 
worshipers,  and  when  Sunday  comes  he  must 
stand  in  the  pulpit,  lift  the  congregation  heaven- 
ward on  the  wings  of  prayer,  feed,  cheer  and  in- 
spire. He  must  be  able  to  rejoice  with  those  who 
enjoy  poor  health,  weep  with  those  who  linger  in 
the  furnace  of  affliction,  socialize  with  socialists, 
and  grange  with  the  granger.  He  must  be  on 
speaking  terms  with  political  economy,  political 
science,  hypnotism,  basket-ball,  religious  peda- 
gogy, philosophy,  biology,  higher  criticism,  ath- 
letics, advertising,  management  of  moving  pic- 
and  therapeutics !  I  never  see  a  company  of 
theological  students  graduating  without  thinking 
that  they  out-Napoleon  Napoleon  in  courage, 
out-Peary  Peary  in  daring.  They  must  be  ac- 
complished in  every  virtue,  bold  yet  cautious,  en- 


THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS         117 

thusiastic  yet  considerate,  venturesome  yet  level- 
headed. They  must  be  wise  and  devout  sons  to 
the  mothers  in  Israel,  chums  with  joyous  youths, 
responsive,  yet  self -controlled  and  discreet,  when 
gentle  eyes  flash  their  friendly  messages,  and  fur- 
nish cool,  hard-headed  business  men  with  solid 
chunks  of  practical  righteousness.  They  must 
have  a  common  sense  which  would  have  delighted 
Franklin,  a  practical  insight  which  would  have 
been  as  pleasing  as  another  wife  to  Solomon,  an 
aloofness  from  the  world  which  St.  Francis 
would  have  applauded,  and  a  spirituality  which 
would  have  charmed  Paul.  They  must  be  able  to 
say  with  Robert  Burdette  when  offered  strawber- 
ries in  February  at  a  banquet,  "No,  I  thank  you ; 
it  will  be  all  the  harder  to  go  back  to  prunes," 
and  do  it  with  unfeigned  gladness. 

They  must  tell  the  truth  though  it  call  forth  re- 
sentment, listen  to  sharp  criticism  as  to  entranc- 
ing music,  and  never  say  a  foolish  thing.  Like 
his  Master,  the  minister  must  be  dignified  and  in- 
dependent in  the  house  of  Simon  the  Pharisee, 
warm-hearted  at  the  festive  table  of  the  publican, 
tender  with  the  outcast,  and  patient  with  the 
wayward.  The  college  boy  must  think  of  him  as 
one  of  the  fellows  he  is  glad  to  meet,  and  the  dying 
must  rejoice  to  take  his  hand  as  he  moves  toward 
the  Great  Divide. 

The  country  parson  must  know  how  to  harness 
a  horse,  milk  a  cow,  plant  a  garden,  paint  a  room, 
tinker  the  clock,  and  make  hens  lay.     He  should 


118  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

be  far  more  accomplished  than  his  unfortunate 
brother  in  the  city.  The  task  of  the  latter  is 
simplicity  itself.  If  a  parishioner  in  the  city  does 
not  like  his  pastor,  he  can  slip  out  into  another 
church,  but  in  the  country  he  remains  to  find 
fault,  cut  down  his  subscription  and  keep  the 
blanket  wet.  The  minister  must  meet  him  with 
self-respect,  courage,  kindness  and  a  desire  to  win 
him  to  the  Kingdom. 

Varied  is  the  task  of  the  country  minister.  His 
prime  business  is  to  make  God  real  within  the 
whole  sphere  of  his  influence,  real  in  the  pulpit 
as  he  interprets  the  great  truths  of  Redemption, 
real  in  daily  life  as  he  walks  with  Jesus  in  high 
companionship.  There  is  no  good  cause  to  which 
he  can  afford  to  turn  a  deaf  ear,  no  form  of  well- 
being  in  which  he  should  not  be  interested,  no  de- 
partment of  his  church  in  which  his  influence 
should  not  be  felt.  His  sympathy  and  prayers 
go  out  to  the  toilers  in  the  mines,  sufferers  in  Ar- 
menia, workers  in  sweat-shops,  the  pensioners  and 
the  pensionless,  the  wise  and  prudent,  the  thrift- 
less and  the  improvident.  But  his  business  is  to 
make  God  real  to  every  one  he  can  reach,  to  eradi- 
cate sin,  to  bring  Christ  and  his  salvation  in  con- 
tact with  the  misery  and  depravity  of  the  world. 

The  most  powerfully  spiritual,  the  most  expert 
in  dealing  with  the  sophisms  of  the  human  soul 
are  inadequate  enough  for  this  colossal  task,  but 
the  true  minister,  whatever  his  training  or  expe- 
rience, seeks  to  discover  to  men  their  souls.  Busi- 


THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS         119 

ness,  home  cares,  pleasures,  throw  their  concrete 
over  many  a  life.  It  is  the  minister's  business  to 
break  up  that  concrete,  to  disclose  the  hidden 
springs  of  joy,  hope  and  love.  A  pupil  of  Du- 
gald  Stewart  spoke  in  terms  of  deepest  affection 
of  his  great  teacher  thus,  "He  was  the  first  to 
make  me  realize  that  I  had  a  soul." 

It  is  easy  to  forget  that  the  superb  task  of  the 
minister  is  not  to  preside  over  a  philanthropic  in- 
stitution, in  which  gymnasium,  cooking-classes, 
health-cure,  money-raising,  and  athletics  absorb 
his  time  and  exhaust  his  strength,  but  rather  to 
transform  men  into  the  divine  likeness.  And  this 
can  be  achieved  only  as  he  is  able  to  persuade 
them  that  Christ  has  a  great  career  for  them 
which  is  practical,  inviting,  indispensable. 

The  word  which  may  suggest  this  task  of  the 
minister's  is  Optimism.  When  Voltaire  started 
the  word  "optimism"  on  its  distinguished  career, 
little  did  his  benevolent  soul  imagine  its  wide  use 
and  utility.  We  find  it  decorating  the  interior  of 
our  trolley  cars,  a  staple  with  skilful  and  success- 
ful founders  of  new  religious  sects  and  new  ways 
of  getting  well  without  drugs, — save  perhaps  a 
drug  for  the  imagination. 

There  are  different  kinds  of  optimism  and  the 
value,  the  abiding  value,  of  the  disposition  de- 
pends on  the  kind ;  the  old,  tried  way  was  to  face 
and  fight  our  troubles,  and  depend  largely  on  our 
own  energy  and  courage  for  the  rosy  hue  in  the 
future :  the  modern  way  is  to  shut  our  eyes  to  our 


120  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

trials,  play  that  they  do  not  exist.  We  older  peo- 
ple are  rather  prejudiced  in  favor  of  the  former 
method,  but  we  must  all  admit  that  there  is  a  good 
deal  of  value  in  the  latter,  especially  for  persons 
of  a  certain  quality  of  mind  and  degree  of  cul- 
ture. There  must  be  a  wide  receptivity  for  the 
doctrine  of  suggestion,  the  imagination  that  there 
is  nothing  the  matter  with  us,  though  nerves 
quiver  with  pain  and  the  solar  plexus  is  over- 
worked in  its  effort  to  slumber.  No  one  sees  more 
clearly  than  the  minister  that  the  determination 
to  be  an  optimist  is  a  valuable  asset,  but  he  also 
sees  that  it  must  have  a  solid  basis  in  righteous- 
ness and  common  sense,  or  it  becomes  at  length  a 
delusion  and  a  source  of  weakness. 

Augustus  and  Angelina,  billing  and  cooing  in 
those  seraphic  days  before  marriage,  dream  of 
bliss  unutterable;  Augustus  is  sure  Paradise  will 
always  charm  while  Angelina  smiles,  and  Ange- 
lina is  sure  that  Augustus  will  always  be  chival- 
ric  and  kind,  but  the  time  may  come  when  love 
will  be  sharply  tested.  A  gulf  may  yawn;  the 
wife  may  be  tempted  by  another,  the  husband, 
blinded  and  delirious,  plunge  toward  the  dark. 
The  cheerful  optimism  of  those  halycon  days  had 
no  foundation. 

Venice  was  never  more  optimistic  than  when  she 
was  passing  through  her  golden  era.  Dreaming 
that  all  was  well,  the  people  lived  on  in  gay, 
light-hearted  security,  but  with  no  home  life,  the 
decay  of  which  invited  disaster. 


THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS         121 

The  optimism  which  is  the  minister's  business 
is  not  the  glittering  hue  of  hopefulness  which 
leads  one  Micawber-like  to  expect  to  pluck  ripe 
clusters  of  grapes  where  there  is  not  even  a  vine. 
George  Macdonald's  bright  eyed  little  woman, 
whose  eyes  were  like  a  morning  in  June,  was  al- 
ways saying,  "Something  good  is  waiting  for  you 
yonder,  if  you  will  only  have  patience  to  go  on 
until  you  reach  it."  But  even  she  would  perhaps 
lose  a  little  of  her  radiant  sunshine  if  she  knew 
she  was  living  beyond  her  income.  Cheerful- 
ness is  like  a  gold-mine  beneath  a  threadbare  car- 
pet, a  silver  tongue  speaking  from  a  meager  li- 
brary, but  there  must  be  gold  and  intelligence 
somewhere  near. 

Happy  is  the  man  whom  Isaac  Barrow  eulo- 
gized as  "smiling  always  with  a  never-failing  se- 
renity of  countenance,  and  flourishing  in  an  im- 
mortal youth."  Gloom,  fretfulness,  worry,  dis- 
content, sleety  nagging,  chill  the  tender  plants 
of  happiness  and  peace,  and  at  last  when  evening 
shadows  gather,  we  lament  that  we  did  not  know 
how  well  off  we  were.  It  is  the  minister's  fine  task 
to  help  a  little  in  the  cultivation  of  an  atmosphere 
which  shall  ward  off  such  disaster.  To  do  this  is 
an  achievement.  Says  a  wise  thinker,  "If  I  can 
put  one  touch  of  rosy  sunset  into  the  life  of  any 
man  or  woman,  I  shall  feel  that  I  have  worked 
with  God." 

True  optimism  is  a  triumph  over  difficulties,  and 
not  a  closing  of  the  eyes  to  facts.     It  is  the  hid- 


122  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

den  path  up  the  Heights  of  Abraham,  and  the  sex 
which  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  weaker  more 
often  wears  the  laurel  in  this  struggle  for  the  goal 
of  peace.  The  fling  is  sometimes  cast  at  the  min- 
ister that  he  preaches  mostly  to  women.  He 
might  do  worse,  for  if  he  can  cultivate  in  women's 
hearts  a  true  and  well-balanced  optimism,  he  is 
feeding  the  springs  of  high  endeavor.  The  only 
one  of  the  Round  Table  who  kept  his  soul  clean 
and  so  won  the  sight  of  the  Holy  Grail  was  Sir 
Galahad  whose  strength  was  invincible  because  a 
pure  woman 

"  Sent  the  deathless  passion  in  her  eyes 
Through  him,  and  made  him  hers,  and  laid  her 
Mind  on  him,  and  he  believed  in  her  belief." 

Milton  makes  Paradise  Lost  turn  on  the  fail- 
ure of  a  woman  to  keep  her  eyes  on  the  goal  of  a 
high  optimism.  Shakespeare's  heroes  are  all  hero- 
ines. How  glorious  the  company, — Cordelia,  Des- 
demona,  Virgilia,  Catharine.  How  strong  and 
brilliant  they  are.  The  redemption  of  a  play 
usually  turns  on  the  wisdom  of  a  woman.  Above 
the  artists,  philosophers,  poets,  statesmen  of  Ath- 
ens, above  the  roof  of  the  Parthenon  on  the  rocky 
Acropolis,  in  honor  of  the  guardian  of  the  city, 
stood  the  virgin  goddess  Athenae,  with  gold- 
crested  helmet  and  gold-tipped  spear.  Rome  was 
the  mightiest  of  the  nations  while  Minerva,  the 
virgin  daughter  of  Jupiter,  was  revered,  and  pure 
wives  and  mothers  lived  in  honor. 

It  seems  a  far  cry  from  the  high  inspiration  of 


THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS  123 

a  woman  to  paying  one's  bills,  but  the  optimism 
which  holds  its  steady  movement  through  stern 
equinoctials  must  be  thrifty.  Perhaps  one  rea- 
son why  the  teacher  of  religion  needs  the  exercise 
of  chasing  the  wolf  from  his  door  is  that  he  may 
understand  the  experiences  of  most  of  his  peo- 
ple. Emerson  says,  "The  pulpit  and  the  press 
have  many  commonplaces  denouncing  the  thirst 
for  wealth ;  but  if  men  should  take  these  moralists 
at  their  word  and  leave  off  aiming  to  be  rich,  the 
moralists  would  rush  to  rekindle  at  all  hazards  this 
love  of  power  in  the  people,  lest  civilization  should 
be  undone." 

With  a  clear  appreciation  of  the  value  of  money 
(an  appreciation,  alas,  too  keenly  felt  because  his 
pocket  is  so  empty),  eager  to  head  every  sub- 
scription-paper with  a  goodly  sum,  yet  warned  by 
experience  to  be  economical,  until  he  hates  the 
very  word  economy,  the  minister  must  manage  to 
keep  himself  high-minded,  great-hearted,  brave  in 
his  grasp  of  spiritual  truth  as  the  only  reality 
worth  consideration.  Like  Mark  Tapley,  he  must 
almost  welcome  troubles  as  occasions  for  "coming 
out  strong"  in  the  spiritual.  His  optimism  is  that 
of  Browning.  He  delights  in  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra 
with  his 

"  Then  welcome  each  rebuff 
That  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough. 


Be  our  joy  three  parts  pain." 
He  may  say  to    his    child    when  hurt,  "Never 


124  NOTIONS  OF  A  PARSON 

mind,"  but  he  adds,  "Be  a  man."  Though  his 
heart  be  torn,  his  life  filled  with  cares  and  sor- 
rows, his  treasury  almost  empty,  his  future 
cloudy,  it  is  his  business  as  a  minister  of  Christ 
to  wear  an  indelible  smile,  to  let  his  life  and  his 
preaching  ring  true  to  the  celestial  music.  The 
man  whose  optimism  is  worth  anything  never 
thinks  of  sin  as  merely  a  mistake,  to  be  mended 
by  suggestion  or  education.  He  regards  the 
"Don't  worry"  societies  as  helpful  to  the  super- 
ficial, and  Pres.  Eliot's  exhortation,  "Be  sure  and 
live  on  the  sunny  side"  as  good  so  far  as  it  goes. 
He  hopes  the  time  will  come  before  many  moons 
when  the  trying  paraphernalia  of  burials,  which 
are  so  pagan  and  so  depressing  will  pass  away 
with  the  other  remnants  of  the  Dark  Ages.  He 
is  quite  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  is  living  in  the 
reaction  from  days  when  a  favorite  hymn  in 
church  was  this, — 

"  There  is  a  dreadful  hell, 
And  ever  lasting  pains, 
Where  sinners  must  with  devils  dwell, 
In  darkness,  fire,  and  chains." 

and  therefore  he  must  guard  against  a  syrupy 
gospel. 

He  never  forgets  that  optimism  works  accord- 
ing to  great  and  exacting  laws,  enthrones  the  sac- 
rificial Christ  in  the  souls  of  men,  and  inspires 
them  to  lives  of  integrity  and  practical  holiness. 
With  this  as  the  spring  of  his  life,  and  with  daily 


THE  MINISTER'S  BUSINESS 


125 


fellowship  with  the  kingly  Master,  he  will  present 
to  his  fellows  an  optimism  which  in  their  hearts 
they  will  desire,  and  in  his  high  endeavor  he  will 
win  the  day  at  last. 


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